The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe
by joss859
Summary: Edward is an actor adored for his role as Jack Lion. Bella is a wardrobe manager dreaming of her perfect Edward.Will he fall under her spell? Join the Lion,the Witch & the Wardrobe on a four-day movie shoot filled with endless misunderstandings & passion.
1. Chapter 1

LWW Prologue

The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe

By joss859

**Synopsis**

Edward is a world famous actor adored for his role as Jack Lion. He finds himself pursued by fans, his life a constant round of interviews and appearances, and wonders if he will ever find that elusive someone special. Bella is a quiet, reclusive wardrobe manager who dreams of an honest and gentle Edward despite the stories and gossip about him. Will he fall under her spell? Will she learn to trust the real man under the media hype? And can opposites really attract?

Join the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe on a four-day movie shoot filled with hidden feelings, endless misunderstandings and undeniable passion.

"It was my job to clothe him, to quite literally check him out and make sure he looked good. And I was being PAID for this! As he pulled the T-shirt up and over his head, I couldn't help but stare at the treasure trail of soft hair leading down to the waistband of his jeans and below. Really, the man was just so...

... delicious.

Oh God, was licking your lips a professional thing to do?

_Depends which profession..."_

**~~oo0oo~~**

Edward is an actor adored for his role as Jack Lion. Bella is a quiet wardrobe manager who dreams of her perfect Edward. Will he fall under her spell? Join the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe on a four-day movie shoot filled with hidden feelings, endless misunderstandings and undeniable passion.

~~oo0oo~~

I'll do the usual disclaimer; if you recognise it, it belongs to the wonderful Stephenie Meyer and her Twilight universe. No harm or insult meant to anyone and this is pure fiction.

**A/N **I borrowed the title for this story from C. because i had one of those eureka moments when I realised how well the title fit. The story however is completely different, no centaurs, talking animals or Evil Queens. Sorry!

**The Lion, the witch and the Wardrobe**

**Prologue**

**Bella POV**

He was without a doubt the most infuriating man I had ever met. He was driving me crazy with his bloody minded, stubborn attitude. Not to mention the heat he generated in me. Just being in the same room with his tall, long legged frame, sharp angular jaw and eyelashes to die for, and I felt myself go up in flames.

And he didn't even notice me.

I mean, he behaved as if I wasn't even there. A blank space. When he had to speak directly to me it was practically through gritted teeth.

Bloody actors. An attitude was the last thing I needed to deal with. I had a job to do here and he was not going to distract me from it. This was my best chance to prove myself, and he was bloody well going to do what I said whether he liked it or not. He could give me those stubborn, pouty, up through his eyelashes looks all he liked.

_Oh yes please..._

Oh no, not likely. I was not going to let myself fall for him. After all, most of the time he looked at me like I was a particularly annoying elderly aunt that he had to be polite to but didn't really like. Oh, I hated that. Especially the elderly bit. We were almost the same age, damn it. Okay, so I found myself treating him more and more like a three year old, but it was his own fault. He was behaving like one. I mentally stamped my foot. Like a three year old. God, it was catching.

I kept my expression stern as I looked at him, kept my body rigid, firmly under my control. Foot tapping was the only outward sign of the energy boiling around madly inside of me from the top of my scalp to the tips of my toes and not missing any parts in between. None. At. All.

It made it very difficult to concentrate on work. I couldn't help it. He made me so mad, and yet I wanted him so much. It was either hold myself tightly together or throw myself at him, and I needed to do this job right, so, frigid looking, disapproving elderly aunt it was.

I took a deep calming breath. He saw. His eyes swung up to meet mine across the space between us, stubborn, determined and oh, deep sea green pools of sexual delight, promising... promising... Sensing a win, he cocked his head slightly and allowed his expression to slip into what could only be described as a smirk. Bastard. He quirked his eyebrow and I barely kept a whimper from escaping.

_The quirk and smirk. Oh God._

I was teetering on the brink. Just from a look. Damn him. Gathering what were most definitely the very last tatters of my resolve, I stepped towards him, gave him my best maiden aunt stern glare and spoke to him firmly.

'Mr Masen, I'm told that you're very good at your job, but believe me when I say that I am damn good at my job too. Now go into my room and take your underwear off.'


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter One******

**Edward POV**

**The Beginning**

"So, Edward, we've all heard about your fairy tale rise to fame from obscurity. What did it feel like to realise that you had it in you to be a world famous actor?" the saccharin sweet voice of my interviewer asked.

_Jeeze, really, _that_ question? And, do you honestly think that _anyone_ wakes up one morning and thinks 'Today I'm going to become a world famous actor?' God, I'm so bored..._

"Well, Stacey, it didn't just happen overnight of course, and I had a lot of help from family and friends. I wouldn't be here now if it weren't for them." I leaned in towards her slightly and gave her a conspiratorial wink and a lopsided smile. "We all need our friends, Stacey."

And right there, Stacey Walker, interviewer extraordinaire, melted into a giggling puddle.

_Yep, still got it._

The hot studio lights made the caked-on makeup itch as I sweated under it. I didn't mind giving interviews. Flirting with beautiful women was most definitely a perk of the job, even if it was only for the camera. Well sometimes anyway. Stacey Walker was not the most intelligent interviewer but at least that meant I wouldn't have trouble deflecting awkward questions that I had no intention of answering. Deflecting her after the interviews were over might be a bit more difficult; she was a bit of a clinger and handsy. I knew from experience.

_Only three more after this one, then home to a cold beer. Thank God. It's been a long day._

Stacey giggled out a few more questions, thankfully following the guidelines for the interview; sticking to asking about the new film I was promoting. Then it was over. She put her red taloned hand on my knee accidently on purpose, squeezed it playfully and hopped off the stool she was sitting on, giving me quite an eyeful of her surgically enhanced breasts in her low cut top as they jiggled right in front of my face. Yeah, I can tell. I gave her a charming smile, but reigned in the flirting for the sake of my sanity.

_Just get her out of here somebody._

Alice rolled her eyes at me from across the room, not succeeding very well at hiding her smirk. Bitch. She was supposed to be on my side.

"Okay, next we've got Abby Rider from CMBC, as soon as you're set up, Abby," Alice directed, as she stepped nimbly over the sprawl of cables and equipment that covered the floor to reach my side and hand me a bottle of water.

We watched impassively as another beautiful woman slid onto the stool in front of me and smiled coquettishly at me. I sighed ..._game on, Masen_... and drank quickly, eager to get this over with. I smiled my best winning smile at Abby Rider from CMBC and was rewarded with a look of pure carnal want as she licked her glossy lips suggestively. I felt Alice cringe beside me.

_Now you know what it's like, sis._

_God, is it a requirement of the job that you're able to flirt lustfully at the interviewee? And what happened when they were interviewing another woman? Did they get into a cat fight and scratch each other eyes out instead? I'd have to watch some of their stuff on TV and find out..._

"So, Edward," Abby Rider began. "You played the lead in your latest film _The Lion Roared_ which is doing phenomenally well at the box office. How did it feel to wake up one morning and realise you had become a world famous actor?"

_Fuck..._

**Two and a half years ago**

I had been nervous. This kind of thing just didn't happen.

"It does in my world," said the small blonde woman who had impulsively snatched me out of an office, thrown papers at me to sign and propelled me into the crazy world of acting for the first time.

_Did I say that out loud? Apparently so._

"Well," she amended, a thoughtful frown creasing her brow. "It does in films anyway. I've never actually done this for real before."

Great confidence builder. I was an electrician for God's sake. I had only been at the film studios that day to sort out some wiring problem or other that they were having. One of the supporting actors was ill; they needed a replacement ASAP... I was it. Walk in, say a couple of lines, and walk out again, how hard could it be? Actually, as it turned out it wasn't hard at all; the small blonde woman whose name I never did catch seemed as amazed as me.

"You're a natural," she had assured me with a knowing smile, once my scene was over and I was changed back into my own clothes. "With your looks you'll go far."

I hadn't believed her of course, it was just a one-time thing... a change from my mundane job for a day. I hadn't even known if I would get paid for my time.

It turned out she was right. Well, about the going far bit anyway. When I had arrived home that night, exhausted and still riding an exhilarating high, I called Alice. "Hey sis, you'll never guess what happened at work today."

She had rushed round, like the whirlwind that she was and had drawn from me more details about the day than I thought I could remember. How the hell does she do that? As she bounced up and down in her seat like she was still five years old, I told her about the studios, the actors, the director, the script and the little blonde woman who's name I couldn't remember. Her eyes had sparkled like a kid at Christmas, as she clapped her hands in excitement. The day had been a buzz all right, much more exciting than a normal day at work that was for sure... but just a one-time thing... right? Not if Alice had anything to do with it.

"Did you like it?" she had asked finally, when I ran out of anything else to tell her, her spiky haired head on one side assessing my reactions.

I thought about it. How to describe it? "Yeah, actually I did, once I got over the terror, it was good."

Good was an understatement. I had loved it. Stepping out of myself for a while and pretending to be someone else? Working with so many creative people? What could be more invigorating than that? Even though the actual filming had only lasted about ten minutes. Two takes worth.

Everything else that happened in the two hours and twenty minutes I was there was a blur. It had been a mess of sweating, confusing, adrenaline fuelled rushes between costume, make up and rehearsal. Of not knowing what I was doing, where I was going or what the hell I was there for in the first place.

I hadn't even found out the name of the film until someone in Post Production phoned me up to check the spelling of my name for the credits four months later. Guess I should have actually read the papers I signed.

Anyway, Alice had organised me. She had always organised me, she was good at it. When we were in school together, she used to pack my bag for me, reminding me of my timetable and made sure I had lunch money, I was always useless at things like that. When I had finished both school and my training and set up as an electrician, she just carried right on organising me, doing the accounts for me, keeping my diary, sorting out all the paperwork, keeping my social calendar; yeah it was hard to keep track of my friends' birthdays and parties and stuff. Where would I be without Alice? So this new 'career path' as she saw it didn't deter Alice one little bit, she carried right on organising me and next thing we knew, she was my agent, assistant and business manager all in one, finding me parts in commercials and independent films as if she were born to do it. She was a force to be reckoned with my tiny big sister.

I loved it. I made really good friends, travelled a lot and worked hard. I also met lots of lovely women. It's weird how a woman's eyes light up when you tell them you are an actor. More so than when you tell them you are an electrician. They are more likely to tell you about the broken washing machine they have or ask how much you charge to install a security light. But tell them you are an actor and they fawn all over you and ask if they can visit your trailer on set. As if we all have our own trailers, but what the hell. I encouraged more than my fair share of women who were hoping to be considered for a part in a film or who were just hoping for a bit of spotlight to shine on them for a while. Well, come on, I'm a guy and who wouldn't? I had more women in those six months than in the whole of my twenty-seven years. Yeah, I'm a prick, I know.

So then, six months after starting the roller coaster ride together, Alice managed to get me an audition for a small part in a big production film. I don't know how she did it but she did. The audition was more intense than anything I had done before but it seemed to go okay. I was still surprised though when I got offered the part. There had been plenty of others at the audition, some I recognised from films already. I felt way out of my league. I didn't know why they chose me. According to the press later, the sycophantic production team said they had always known I would be a success. At the time though I was just another small part actor among many and was treated as such.

The first day I arrived on set, I was even more terrified than I had been six months before when I had stepped in front of a camera for the very first time. This time was different; this time it was a multi-million pound film, and I was shit scared I would cock up my part and annoy the heck out of everyone. The character I was playing was complicated and his lines pivotal to the plot. This wasn't a game anymore ... I had a chance to actually make something of myself. To actually be an Actor and not just dick around enjoying myself.

I only had a few scenes, but I was working alongside some of the biggest names in the film industry. I'd seen these guys on TV and in films for years. Hell, as a teenager I'd taken dates to the cinema and necked with them through films that stared the actors I was now working with! Where the hell did I get off thinking that I was anywhere near good enough to be here?

I had stood in the wardrobe area, dressed in costume, makeup finished, ready to go on set, and I honestly didn't know if I could do it. I was just an electrician damn it, not an actor. I'd had no training, hardly any experience, and I was literally shaking in my boots.

I had clutched the script tightly in my hand gazing blindly at it, desperately trying to remember my lines, where I was, my own name...

"You're going to be fine, Edward. Just take a deep breath, think about your character, and relax into the role," I heard a woman's voice say just as I felt a hand rest lightly on my arm. The voice felt smooth and calming to me in my fucked up state.

She was my dresser I hazily realised; she'd looked over my outfit after I was dressed, checking with whatever was on her clip board. I did relax a bit at her words, and the calm hazel eyes and gentle smile really helped too. I noted with the part of my brain that wasn't shit scared, that she was kind of cute, and I had a vague impression that she had blushed as I had looked down at her, though I wasn't really concentrating on the here and now at all. A pale pink stained her smooth cheeks though; did women really still do that? I had always had a bit of an effect on women even before the acting thing, they seemed to like my eyes or something, but blushing? Her hand rested on my arm still and I could swear I felt warmth running up my arm through to my chest from where we touched. Before I could begin to notice anything else though, a production assistant had stepped into the wardrobe area to call all the actors to the soundstage. The adrenaline had surged through my blood like a fever making me even more jittery.

"Go show them what you can do," she had said to me, squeezing my arm firmly and looking steadily into my eyes.

And under her comforting gaze I realised something. I realised I wouldn't have been hired if someone, somewhere didn't think I could do this. I realised I really did want this new life I had started, and that I also needed to get my head into the work and stop playing up to the perks. The sudden boom in my sex life was pretty fucking good, pun intended, but now I wanted something else. I wanted to succeed as an actor. So, with a new found confidence and humility, I had walked out of the wardrobe area onto the soundstage and had given the best damn performance that I could. That small role had catapulted me into the public's eye as well the critic's and well, as they say, the rest is history. Yeah, corny or what?

**London Entertainment Weekly**

**What's Hot, What's Not at the Cinemas This Week**

By Jessica Blake

...This week also sees the release of _Yesterday's Tapestry_ a finely woven story of betrayal and self-discovery. I wasn't sure what I was going to make of this film and apart from knowing that there were big names cast I knew nothing about it. : It's an interesting well told story, with the plot unravelling before you, just enough to keep you on your toes through to the climatic ending. Director, David Watts, keeps the suspense high and doesn't let you rest for a moment. Edward Masen, in his first major film plays a small but significant role and is my vote for best newcomer this year. Despite appearing alongside established and well-loved actors, Masen commanded his scenes as his character dictated showing himself to be an actor who truly immerses himself into his role, imbuing enough of himself without taking anything from the character he is playing. I couldn't take my eyes off him whenever he was on the screen. It doesn't hurt that he is also a gorgeous man! I'm going to be looking out for more from Ed Masen!

**Two weeks ago**

"Where the hell are you, Emmett?" I shouted into the phone. "There are about fifty crazy people in the coffee shop now and the paps are everywhere ... I don't know where they all came from..."

"Relax, mate, I'm on my way, be there in five. Back alley, okay?" Emmett's deep booming reply was comforting.

"Make it three," I snapped back. I was short with him, I knew, but this sort of thing was beginning to drive me crazy.

I honestly didn't mind when people recognised me and asked for autographs, I always smiled for them, they paid to go and watch the films after all, and to be honest I just loved talking to people. I didn't even complain when reporters jumped out of nowhere and snapped pictures of me, I just took it with good grace, smiled and said a few words, but today I had just come out for coffee damn it; a few minutes peace and some much needed caffeine. I had pushed angrily through the crowd and glared at the cameras...God knows what headlines they would put with that tomorrow.

My latest film, my second in the starring role, had hit the cinemas two weeks ago and my life had become even crazier since then. _The Lion Roared_ it was called and the press had labelled me accordingly. The only peace I got was when I locked myself away in my house and even then I couldn't have the blinds open; just last week a pap had managed to snap pictures of me when I got out of bed in the morning for Christ's sake. I was living under siege and it was killing me.

My phone rang. It was Emmett, my best friend from school, and currently my bodyguard, driver and all round good guy. He was going to kill me for sneaking out for a coffee. Throwing a thanks and lots of sincere smiles (I'm an actor after all) at the coffee shop's staff, who were hiding me in their tiny kitchen, I darted out of the back door and through the photographers before diving into the safety of the car. No smiles now, I couldn't remember the last time I had relaxed for real and had actually wanted to smile. I was so tired.

"How the hell did I get myself into this mess, Emmett?" I groaned, throwing an arm across my eyes as Emmett manoeuvred the car through the crowd and safely away.

He grinned back over his shoulder at me as I lay sprawled across the back seats where I had ended up, too drained to move again. "Well, you didn't wait for me to fetch you a coffee, you stupid bastard. You just walked out to get it yourself, that's how." But we both knew that that wasn't what I was referring to, how the hell did my life get like this?

"When I finish this project, I'm taking a break, no matter what Alice says," I replied, gripping my hair with both hands in frustration. "Only a few more days of filming, and then that's it, I'm finding somewhere to hide." I sighed at the thought.

"Man, there_ is_ no where_ you_ could hide," Emmett stated decisively, the big grin still on his face.

I groaned again. He was probably right. Emmett chuckled, his massive shoulders shaking with his enjoyment. Git.

"You are so uptight these days, you need to get laid!" He laughed at me. It was his solution for everything. Some days I hated him I really did. "Let me set you up," he continued enthusiastically while expertly pulling across three lanes of traffic and turning right. "I know a great woman, really hot..."

"That didn't work out so well the last time, Em," I interrupted quickly, sitting up and reaching for the seat belt; his driving scared me. "So no thanks, okay?" I said it without heat though, not wanting to hurt him. He was silent as he carefully handing me a coffee that, of course, he had been able to buy on the way here without getting ambushed, thinking about the disaster my last "relationship" had been.

Tia, the "really nice girl" Alice had introduced me to eight months ago, had dated me for three weeks, gone through all my personal papers in my house, and then sold her story to the highest bidder. Everything from my bank account numbers to a detailed analysis of my skills in the bedroom had been plastered all over the media. Thanks to the voracity of the press, my mother now knew far more about me than any mother should ever know. There had even been a web site dedicated entirely to my dick for fuck's sake. Emmett never let me forget it. The whole thing wasn't something I wanted a repeat of and I now guarded my privacy obsessively. This as far as I was concerned meant no dating. I sighed, Em was right, I really did need to get laid. Seven months was a long time. Sadly it seemed to be all or nothing in this business. Sometimes I really missed the normal life. I'm not sure I even knew what "normal" was anymore.

**Edward 'The Lion' Masen**

**On the Rampage Again**

Spotted in a London coffee shop yesterday, Edward Masen 29 year old star of _Come What_ _May_ and recently released _The Lion Roared_, appeared irritated by the attention of his devoted fans. Scowling at the fans and the cameras, he hid behind the scenes, leaving disappointment in his wake. But his display of surliness hasn't been reflected at the box office, with The Lion Roared bringing in the third largest box office receipts for an opening weekend so far this year. Sources say his on again, off again affair with leggy publicist Tia Peters is well and truly back on, and those reported four times a night romps can really take it out of a guy, so maybe Masen is just feeling the strain. Lucky Tia! Meanwhile, Masen was also spotted at a nightclub last weekend with a mystery blonde that he left with in the early hours of the morning. He really must have the stamina of a lion.

See page 7 for pictures and visit our online affiliate for more pictures and an exclusive interview with beautiful brunette, nineteen year old Kelsey Briant 'The night I spent With Edward Masen.'

**10 days ago **

"No, Alice, this is the last day of shooting. You can't just add more!" I begged her with an edge of panic in my voice which was quite impressive considering I had only staggered out of bed five minutes ago to answer the doorbell and I really wasn't awake yet.

"Actually, Edward, in your contract it does say..." Alice began.

"Damn it, Alice, I need a break, I thought this project was nearly finished." I closed my eyes in frustration. Five a.m. in my kitchen, before I was dressed or even had any coffee was not the best time to tell me I had a new shooting schedule.

_Alice, please..._

"These are just a few scenes that were considered unnecessary before and were cut, but now that you're in the 'Top 10 Hottest Men in Movies', the studio want to put the scenes back in," her calm, reasonable tone was diminished somewhat by the gleam in her eye.

I could tell that Alice was having a hard time not laughing at the thought of her baby brother making the top ten of an international poll of so called hot men.

"I agree with them that you should do the extra scenes, Edward. It's just a few more days and it will really help." Her tone had softened slightly, lips ever so slightly pouty although her eyes still danced with repressed laughter. Did she really think I would fall for that?

"Help with what?" I couldn't help being grouchy; it was early and she was annoyingly chipper. And laughing at me.

"Making sure you reach the top five next year, Eddie!"

_Fuck; it's all right for her; she doesn't have people chasing her everywhere she goes. She gets to meet guys who haven't read all sorts of shit about her in the press that morning._

Her fit of giggles really wasn't helping my mood. The click of the coffeemaker did however. I poured us both a cup ... considered my options rationally and maturely (our parents would be proud of me,) ... gritted my teeth ... thought of the contract I had already signed anyway and sighed. "Okay, but then that's it right? You haven't anything else lined up for me for four weeks after this... right?"

"Yep, four whole weeks off," she confirmed as she leapt lightly off the bar stool she was perched on. Mission accomplished.

_How does she do that at this time in the_ _morning?_

"You can go and lie on a beach somewhere the whole time if that's what you want to do," she added with a grin as she pulled her coat on and checked her Blackberry. Always several things at once.

_Oh God, yes please._

A little bit of normal life again. Not that I'd ever been able to afford to relax on a beach for four weeks before but still...

"Sounds great. Hey, Alice? See if you can get the studio to tone things down a bit though can you?" Perhaps if no one made a fuss about the extra scenes, no one would notice.

_Yeah, as if._

She glanced up at me her face now serious, reasuring, "No problem, it's all arranged."

I bet it was too, she'd known I'd go along with it.

"The studio are a bit embarrassed that they decided to cut these scenes and they want to make it up to you. Its minimal crew, complete closed set; just a few days on location and then all finished." She put her small hand on my arm soothingly. "Okay?" She wasn't all bad; she knew the last few weeks had been rough.

I sighed, resigned. "Okay ...wait, what do you mean by make it up to me?" I had a feeling there was something she wasn't telling me.

"Well, now that you are officially 'hot'..." She rolled her eyes in a cheeky fashion, indicating her disbelief at the dubious title. Can't say I blamed her.

"They want to shoot the sex scenes and some more action scenes. It'll be great for publicity. They've re-written all the 'love interest' scenes to show you at your best! Don't worry, Edward, you'll enjoy it."

I groaned again. How the hell had I ended up as a sex symbol for Christ's sake? I had a feeling that the four extra days were going to be really hard work. I needed more coffee.


	3. Chapter 3

LWW

A/N All Bella's point of view this chapter.

**Chapter 2 **

**The Unexpected**

**Bella POV**

**10 days ago**

It was a quiet day. I had lots of projects to catch up on in my studio and tons of paper work to do. Though being completely honest with myself, I couldn't afford too many quiet days. I needed some work.

I put my iPod into its dock and turned on my 'wake up and do some work' playlist to keep me company. Perfect. Having zero social life meant I spent pretty much all my time here happily working alone. My one good friend dragged me out now and again, claiming that, as people watching while eating lunch with her was my only form of social interaction, I should actually do it sometimes. I wondered if Brooke wanted to meet for lunch later today. I hadn't seen her for a few weeks. I should ask her now and again, shouldn't I? As long as she didn't bring a friend who 'just happened' to be passing by again. I really didn't want to be set up with any more blind dates. There was a big difference between being alone and being lonely. She just didn't realise that.

The phone rang loudly as I pondered calling her, distracting me from my thoughts as well as from my daily task of crawling around on my studio floor picking up pins before the Hoover ate them. Hurriedly, I threaded the pins I had in my hand through the front of my T-shirt, stood up and hurried to grab the phone before it went to the answering machine.

"Bella, glad I've caught you. How are you?" It was Maggie, my sometimes boss. As always, she was brusque and to the point. She scared the hell out of me. She never called me for social reasons though; we didn't have that kind of relationship, she only ever called about work.

"Hi Maggie, I'm fine thanks." That would be about the extent of our personal chit chat.

"I've got a job coming up. It's short notice and a bit unusual, but I need someone efficient and reliable and I knew you weren't working at the moment so I thought of you," she stated bluntly.

I tried not to take that last part too personally. Efficient and reliable are two good words to be able to put on your CV, and Maggie was big in the business with two award nominations under her belt, so I wasn't about to crumble too much at the mention of not being on a job at the moment. Honestly, no one worked 100% of the time.

_Unless they are really good and in demand. Obviously unlike me._

_Shut up._

With caution I replied "Thanks Maggie. What is it you need?" while really hoping it was an offer of some work. I had gradually built up my portfolio and reputation over the last few years, but still wasn't quite there yet. Maggie was one of my best contacts.

"I need you to run the department on a four day film shoot," she began quickly. "It's mainly one actor, nothing you can't handle. It's on location so it'll be self contained. It'll be fun." The last word came out rather strangely, as if she had had to force it past her teeth. Fun was not a word that Maggie ever used, or even knew the meaning of as far as I was aware.

_Wait... _run_ the department? Are you kidding me? That was Maggie's job._

"Um...how big is the department exactly?" I asked in a small voice, gripping the phone tightly as I waited for her answer. I'd never been front line before, only ever safely in the background. Working hard at being reliable and efficient.

"Well, just you actually." Maggie was usually pretty verbose; this lack of information was very unlike her. This was either a ridiculously low budget affair or she was holding something back. I decided to wait her out and see what else she could tell me.

_Come on Maggie, a bit more information here._

"Bella? Are you there? I know it sounds crazy, but most of the work's already done. It's a few extra scenes being filmed to go with what has already been shot. The original wardrobe crew can't make it, they are already scheduled elsewhere, and I'm up to my neck with the new Narnia project. It's all fresh stuff, so there will be no continuity problems for you and you can pick from the unused wardrobe from the main shoot. It's all camera tested and it'll be all yours to run." She drew a breath, finally, before continuing, "I know it'll be hard work with just you, Bella, but it'll be great experience. You'll be credited as Second Location Wardrobe Manager, and honestly? You could do it blindfolded."

I struggled somewhat to take in all the information just thrown at me. Despite the fact that Maggie had obviously seen fit not to hire me on to the Narnia project, a fact I would think about later, I liked her as a boss and trusted her judgement. On the face of it, this seemed like a dream job. Throwing in the flattery to try and cinch the deal was overkill though; it was obviously going to be a lot harder than she was letting on. I wondered what the catch was exactly? She knew I'd never worked at that level before. Whatever the job did involve she was right about one thing though; it would be good experience. Second Location Wardrobe Manager was a definite bump in title and it would help me get more jobs of that level after this one. It would be an excellent chance for me to prove that I'm actually good at this job and know what I'm doing.

_I can do this, I can do this. Please God help me not make a complete mess of this..._

I felt a tiny frission of excitement start to build deep inside me. Just a bit, not getting carried away here. If I could do this, if I could manage to pull this job off successfully, it might ... possibly ... be my big break at last...

_Just please, no cranky actors making it difficult for me._

I was pacing up and down my studio anxiously as I answered, "um...okay Maggie, I'm interested. Do you think you can send me the details?" _Try and sound cool, don't sound terrified_.

"I'll e-mail you everything you need to know. By the way, you need to arrive on site next Wednesday. Thanks Bella, you'll do great," she finished enthusiastically.

_Wait, what, next Wednesday? She has to be kidding, that isn't just short notice, that's almost impossible._

I stopped pacing dead on the spot, one foot still raised in mid-stride. "Maggie, wait, what about fittings and prep?" My voice was high as I struggled to take in what she had just said.

_Less than a week to prep, is she kidding? Don't panic, don't panic..._

"You'll need to do it all on location. I'm sending you the details now along with the contract. You'll need to sign it and get it to the production company before they'll let you on site, so you need to hurry." Her voice dropped and became smoothly persuasive. "Honestly Bella, it's nothing you can't handle. I trust you with it and I'd really appreciate it if you would take the job."

_God, she could sell ice to Eskimos_.

I mumbled my assent, my capitulation pretty much a foregone conclusion as we had both known. I said goodbye distractedly, though I think she'd all ready hung up. My brain was screaming at me to retract.

_I can't do this, I can't do this._

_Yes you can. Just don't be nervous..._

Numbly, still uselessly clutching the now silent phone in my hand, I wandered over to my computer to check for e-mails. When Maggie said she was sending something over she usually meant she'd already done it.

Logically, I knew that this unexpected job offer could be so good for me on several fronts. A longed for step up on my career path, sole control over the wardrobe decisions, a chance to prove myself publically...

_...publically, shit..._

…and only a four day shoot. How far wrong could I go? How much better could it be? I opened up my e-mail programme to see if Maggie's e-mail had arrived.

Yep, there it was, sitting innocently in my inbox. One e-mail that had the potential to change so much. I clicked to print out the document labelled "contract" since Maggie had said I needed to hurry and sign it, and started to read the detailed information that accompanied it.

Detailed, my arse. If this was detailed I'd hate to see the abbreviated version.

Position: Wardrobe Manager

Project: T.B.A

Studio: T.B.A

Salary: T.B.A

Cast: T.B.A

Crew: T.B.A.

Accommodation: On site

Location: Sudbury Manor, North Lane, Sudbury.

Details: Arrive Sudbury Manor 10am Wednesday 24th October.

6pm-8pm costume fittings with principal actor

Thursday 25th filming

Friday 26th filming

Saturday 27th filming

Sunday 28th filming. Wrap at 5pm.

Further information on arrival at location.

To Be Advised. No kidding. It wouldn't have been possible to give any less information. What the hell was I getting myself into? Bloody Maggie. Interesting though. Potentially terrifying, but interesting.

The only reason I could think of that the details would be kept so close was if it was a big production that was trying to keep out of the public's notice. The idea of a big production caused my stomach to clench uneasily. I didn't do well with lots of people.

I flipped cautiously through the pages of the contract the printer had just churned out. The confidentiality clauses alone ran to several pages and reading them was a bit of an eye opener. Basically I wouldn't be able to breathe a word about what happened on set to even my own family. And there were specifics too. No camera equipment of any sort including a camera phone, no recording equipment and no computer. Perhaps I was going to detention camp rather than to work?

This was definitely looking more and more like a big deal. It looked like I could be working with a well-known artist or director. One who guarded their privacy? My curiosity was definitely piqued and despite the gnawing in my stomach, I couldn't help wondering who the principal actor could be. Gazing blindly at my computer in front of me, I mentally skipped through a list of current top list actors, dismissing the ludicrous idea that I could ever end up working in close proximity with any of them. My screen saver popped up onto the monitor as I mused, the smiling, crinkle-eyed face of the man I adored distracting me from my thoughts.

_Edward Masen? As if... I wonder what he's working on at the moment?_

**The day before filming**

The nine days since Maggie had called and dropped a bomb shell in my lap had flown past in a flurry of activity. Getting confirmation from the production company that I was expected, confirmation of my salary (unexpectedly generous) and doing my homework; cramming in as much information (and, to be honest, gossip) about as many current productions as possible, had filled the time frighteningly quickly. Not to mention how long it took me to find a phone that _didn't_ have a built in camera. Next thing I knew it was time to pack my car up with my kit and my bag and drive to Sudbury Manor. I still had no idea what film it was, I was going to be working on.

My arrival was not without incident. I pulled in at the gates where I was stopped and not admitted until the security guy had seen two forms of ID and had phoned someone to confirm I was expected. I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel, trying not to look nervous; I was pretty sure the security guy could just pick my little car up, turn it around and send me back the other way again. It was amusing and terrifying at the same time. The security guy was the size of a barn.

Looking round as I drove through the grounds to get to the house, I wondered if we were going to be filming outside amongst the woods, landscaped gardens, stone outbuildings and walls. The house itself was just as beautiful when I got to it: golden yellow stone with tall narrow white painted windows, three floors and at least a couple of newer additions peeking out discreetly at the back. I had a feeling I was going to get lost.

I parked at the rear of house as instructed, was greeted at the door and shown to my room for the next few nights by a woman who introduced herself as Jessica. She explained that she was the production assistant during the shoot and that she would basically be running around making sure that everything went smoothly and that we were all comfortable. I didn't envy her job; even 'small' crews were usually made up of dozens of people.

I was trying my best to appear confident, although my true self was quaking at the responsibility this job placed on me. I'd done this kind of job before but always under the guidance of someone else. Today I was that someone else. I'd dressed conservatively, thinking it would be best to try and appear a bit older and responsible looking. You never knew, it might help.

My fledgling confidence had taken a hit however, as soon as I had seen Jessica. She had long dark blonde hair with artificial red streaks which looked amazing. I wished that I could find the courage to do something like that. She was petite and delicate-looking which instantly made me feel like a lump next to her, and she was dressed in skinny jeans and a jumper which just showed off her perfection.

I sighed as I walked beside her; it wasn't that I was fat. I wasn't, I was just naturally... soft. I hated working with small, slim women, I just felt hefty and clumsy whenever I was near them.

The house was just as lovely on the inside, at least a couple of hundred years old and all dark wood panelling, high ceilings, antiques and red velvet covered chairs. I couldn't see any signs of central heating and the decided chill in the air seemed to imply that there wasn't any. I was glad I had packed for all contingencies. One of the first things you learned about filming on location? Pack thermals, sun lotion and everything in between. I had learnt that the hard way over the last few years.

"There are electric heaters in the bedrooms and main rooms," Jessica said with a smile when I commented. "And if the weather gets colder we can always light the fires." I had a brief vision of a young maid in a long dress clearing out my fireplace in the morning before another smartly dressed maid brought me breakfast in bed. Yeah, only going to happen in front of the cameras. Much more likely I'd be cleaning out my own fireplace.

Jessica gave me a brief tour of the house, reminded me to hand in any mobile phones with built in cameras, showed me where the fire exits were, where we would eat and reminded me again about not having a camera phone on me, as though this point was even more important than how to get out of the building should my life be threatened by a raging inferno. Finally after taking me to leave my bag in my small, but very comfortable looking, room in the old servant's quarters, she showed me to the ground floor room that had been designated as the wardrobe area.

"This is your room," Jessica announced, pushing the dark wood door open with a smile and a flourish. She had been hanging out around actors too long. The girl knew how to make an entrance.

However, this room was comfortingly familiar territory to me. I felt myself relax a bit as I took it all in. Maggie had assured me that everything I could possibly need would be here, transported from the studio where the original costume work had been done. There was a large table covered with protective cloth, rails of clothing, racks of shoes and boxes stacked up in corners. There were even a couple of sewing machines and several bolts of cloth. It looked like I would have everything I would need for this film... whatever it was. I noted modern suits, shirts, jeans and trainers. At last I had a clue as to what period this film was now. I relaxed a bit more, flexing my tense shoulders, more in my comfort zone.

Jessica pointed to a large folder on the table. "Everything you need should be in there," she assured me. "There is a copy of the script, photos from previous scenes so you can get the feel for what the character, Liam, wears, a copy of the schedule, list of everyone involved with these scenes and contact numbers for us all in case you get lost!" I wasn't sure if she was joking or not, the house was huge.

"Help yourself to lunch, it'll be set out at twelve in the kitchen, most others are arriving later this afternoon," she continued. "You're scheduled for fittings etc. at six and then we will all gather for dinner together at eight. We'll all get to know each other then, I expect." She paused, looking at me expectantly to see if I had kept up with that. "Hair and makeup is in the room next door, I'm sure you'll meet each other soon." And then with a smile she was off, tapping away at her Blackberry and muttering to herself about remembering to check that there were enough umbrellas. Not as bizarre as it might sound; outdoor scenes often required lots of them.

And at last I got to find out what I had let myself in for. Eagerly I hurried over to the big table, opened up the folder and began to read through it. I now only had seven hours to prep before fittings and I had a lot of work to do.

However, it's safe to say that I wasted at least forty minutes of those seven hours in panicked shock when I saw the name jump off the page at me.

Edward Masen.

The man I had met briefly, once, for a couple of minutes and who I had been comparing every other man I met to since. The man whose image filled the hard drive on my laptop to capacity, the man who filled my thoughts, my overactive dreams...

_Better not go there, not now._

He was going to be here. Actually here in this house. I was going to see him again. Speak to him. In fact, I realised, we were all trapped in this country house together for the next four days, eating meals together, working together. Shit, sleeping under the same roof!

Bugger that. I was responsible for his clothes, for all the items that touched his skin. I would need to touch him during filming. Adjust collars, hold changes of clothes for him...

_Hold his shirt for him to slip his arms into, torso bare, smoothing down the collar, running my hands across his broad shoulders, down his arms, finding the muscle definition of his biceps, feeling the heat of his skin through the fine fabric of his shirt..._

_God, act like a professional will you?_

_Relax, it's not like it's ever going to be real, Bella._

Butterflies were stomping around my stomach in eight hole Doc Martens, my legs were refusing to hold me up without me giving them a stern talking to and my heart was beating at least twice as fast as it should. I was a wreck. Edward Masen. I was working with Edward Masen for the next four days. It was taking me a while to get my head around this.

It was going to be my job to clothe him, to quite literally check him out and make sure he looked good. And I was being PAID for this!

_Shit, shit, shit._

_Get a grip, for God's sake._

I really wanted to pace up and down in the big room to relieve some tension, but my legs were not up for the job at the moment. Edward Masen. Turned out it was a good thing I wasn't allowed to bring my laptop onto location with me. I cringed at the thought of all the pictures of him I had stored in the thing. I wasn't a mad crazy stalker fan; I just felt a connection with him.

_Connection. As if he'd even remember me._

~~oo0oo~~

I had been following Edward's career ever since I had met him when he filmed his first 'big break' film over two years ago. So it was personal for me, not just... stalkerish.

Thinking back now, I remembered that it had been a first for me too; the first time I had moved from production of costume in off site locations to working in the live wardrobe department at a film studio.

I had been there mostly to keep the records straight; endless paperwork, labelling costume, checking and rechecking that the right pieces were available for the right actors on the right days. Hanging items together, re-labelling them after wear and laundry; a bit like office management except that instead of filing papers in filing cabinets, I was sorting and filing clothing, shoes, hats, belts etc. It was a low ranking job which was time consuming, exacting and low paid but provided vital experience. Everyone started at the bottom.

That particular day however, we had been short staffed due to a minor outbreak of stomach upsets, rumoured to be the fault of the tuna sandwiches provided by catering the day before. I had been temporally upgraded and was nervously helping to prep the actors and check they were ready to go on set. And that was when I had met Edward Masen.

I had checked through the character list on my clip board to make sure he was dressed correctly as I approached him from across the room. Looking up at him I had been stunned by who I saw standing in front of me and had stumbled over my own feet embarrassingly though he didn't lift his gaze from his script so I was saved the humiliation of having him see.

I had studied him as I approached. He had stood with his script clutched in his hand, brow furrowed as he scrutinized it. I could see he was tall and lean with long, long legs that I could tell were muscular by the way the formal trousers that were part of his costume fit him. I loved a man with long legs. His mahogany brown hair was casually tousled after the hair and makeup department had finished with him. He had an amazingly angular jaw, soft-looking lips and his eyes, oh his eyes. Even now I remembered his eyes. Beneath thick, dark eyebrows were green-grey eyes surrounded by long curved eyelashes. They had to be long, I had seen them against his cheek from across the room. Creases at the corners of his eyes spoke of laughter and enjoyment of life and the light dancing within them spoke of intelligence and humour. I could have sunk right in there and then and drowned.

But, as I could tell when I got closer to him, the most obvious thing about him was the tension in his face, his hands and in fact his whole body. Tension or perhaps even fear. His brow had been furrowed with deep lines but not of concentration. His glorious eyebrows were drawn together over what I could see were panicked eyes. He was positively vibrating as he bounced up and down minutely on the balls of his feet. I could even feel the vibration through the thin flooring. I hadn't been able to tell from a distance, he had been hiding it.

My natural instinct had been to try and comfort him in some way, but I was most definitely not a very confident person. Hadn't been then, wasn't now. The mere idea of approaching a tall incredibly good looking man was laughable. Since when did I ever do that? But I hadn't been there to chat him up, I recalled reminding myself.

No, it had been my job to make sure he was ready to go on set, and he may have been in correct costume with hair and makeup finished, but there was no way he was ready to go anywhere. I had surprised myself by letting natural impulses have the day and I uncharacteristically stepped forward and placed my hand on his faintly jittering forearm. I had almost snatched it off again when I had felt a burst of heat pulse up my arm towards my chest.

"_What the heck was that?"_ I had thought, shocked at the feeling. _"Never mind, just talk to him you idiot... Say something... anything."_

"You're going to be fine, Edward. Just take a deep breath, think about your character, and relax into the role." I had managed to say, hoping I sounded like I knew what I was talking about.

His eyes had darted away from his arm where he had stared at my presumptuous attempt to offer him comfort, and met mine. Oh God, I had thought, this man was heaven on earth. He had quite literally taken my breath away. His rather unfocused, slightly panicked gaze pierced me to the heart. I didn't know anything about him but I knew I would do anything to help him. He just...called to me.

He had taken a deep breath, and seemed to sway towards me just a tiny bit, although that could have been wishful thinking on my part. The minute vibrations of nervous jitters had faded away and he had straightened his body, standing taller, shoulders squarer, feet firmly planted on the floor. I had been overwhelmed by the sheer determination that I had seen grow in him. I rembered thinking how far out of my depth I was.

"Go show them what you can do," I had managed to squeeze out around my constricted heart and lungs, gripping his arm slightly through the scratchy wool jacket while I tried with all my pathetically underused womanly wiles to offer encouragement and strength. For the first time in my life I had wished I had been practicing that sort of thing so I would have been ready for that moment. I had managed to meet his strengthening gaze for just a second, eye to eye, gaze to gaze, heart to h...

"_Will you stop that?"_ I had almost shouted at myself. _"This man wouldn't look twice at you if you hadn't grabbed his arm!"_

And, damn it, that was true. He had smiled faintly at me, his pale pink lips twisting up teasingly but I could tell his mind was already in character and not there with boring me in a draughty wardrobe department. A production assistant had chosen that moment to stick her head around the doorway and call all the artists to the soundstage. I had watched breathlessly as he strode away from me on those gorgeous long legs and out of the door, and I remembered feeling that the best thing ever to enter my life had just left it again. Surprisingly, it had hurt.

"_You'll probably never see him again, you know_," I had thought to myself_. "He wouldn't even recognise me if he did. Men like that are not destined for women like me… but Jesus, what a fantastic arse he's got…"_

I had leant to the side to see through the doorway better and had admired the view while I had the chance.

_~~oo0oo~~_

According to the newspaper stories, Edward had been pretty busy since I had met him that time two years ago. His name had been linked with countless beautiful women and his picture had appeared weekly as he arrived at or left various different clubs, parties or events. I hated to believe anything that they wrote about him, but I'd only met him for about a minute and he never even spoke to me so I couldn't claim to actually know him at all, could I?

I did know logically that the fantasies I had about him were just that, fantasies. That there probably was some truth in the stories in the media, but he couldn't really be the arrogant, egotistical, manwhore they made him out to be, could he? I mean, ALL those women?

I hadn't wanted to believe it. I wouldn't believe it. In my mind he was perfect. He only went to all those parties and bars for work related reasons and the women were... friends... cousins... business acquaintances...? In my naive fantasy he was a gentleman at all times; polite, considerate, he didn't have a succession of one night stands, and he always treated the film crews on his sets with respect. That was Edward Masen. The Edward Masen I was in love with. Is twenty seven too old to have a teenage crush? I probably shouldn't call it a teenage crush because there was nothing even remotely innocent about the dreams I had about him and me...

_Ok, reality check, I have work to do._

Sighing, I looked round the large room I was in and took in everything around me properly for the first time. Even though the echoing, wood panelled room was large, it was now rather cluttered with all the paraphernalia that made up a wardrobe department. Surveying it for a moment, I realised that something was missing. There was no changing room for Edward.

_What a shame..._

No, seriously, it was really unprofessional to not have a private area for changing. Perhaps there was another room nearby we could use? A quick search found nothing. How on earth can a house this big not have enough rooms? The room next door was the makeup room, the room the other way was a huge empty room with two walls of floor to ceiling windows - not exactly very private, not to mention freezing cold.

The only other rooms nearby were stacked with disused furniture, filled with film equipment or locked. Oh well, just have to make do with what we've got then. Dragging the two tall clothing rails away from the wall at an angle produced a semi private area behind them. I put a wooden chair in there pinched from one of the stacks in the other room and a small end table he could put things down on while he changed. I swapped a small, probably valuable picture hanging on the wall with a mirror so that he could see himself and stepped back to survey my work. It was the best that I could do. I switched the electric heater up high and moved it over to the changing area as it was pretty cold in the room and getting colder.

Now, on to the important job of figuring out what outfits the character was going to need. Jason Scott, the director had left me a hand written directive in the folder for how he wanted the character, Liam to look: sexy. "I don't care how you do it," he wrote, "just make him look sexy." So I studied the upcoming scenes carefully, making my own notes, letting images float through my mind. When I got to the 'declaration scene' to be filmed on Friday, my heart leapt into my mouth.

Edward's character, Liam, was naked during a passionate scene with his girlfriend.

There was no way I was going to survive the four days of filming.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter notes;

This chapter shifts point of view a few times, but I'm sure you'll follow along.

**Chapter 3**

**Meeting for the second first time.**

**Bella POV**

It was ten minutes until I was due to meet the "principle actor" for costume fittings. Butterflies were stomping round my stomach in eight hole Doc Martens, purple ones at that. My legs were refusing to hold me up, and my heart was beating at least twice as fast as it should be. I was a wreck.

Earlier this afternoon, I had managed to ignore the nerves and had worked hard deconstructing the script and preparing my ideas. I had probably done more than was necessary, but I wanted to be sure, in my own mind, that I could justify my decisions.

"Make him sexy," Jason had said. Well, his parents' genes had already done that. I just needed to make sure that putting clothes on his back enhanced what was there rather than disguised it. Nervously, I read through my notes again.

One scene called for Liam to look "smartly dressed and darkly commanding". There was a gorgeous looking Midnight Navy, Gucci suit hanging on one of the rails that I was just dying to see Edward wear. If there was one thing that I - and the crammed full hard drive of my computer knew - it was how good Edward looked in Gucci. So I chose that suit for his "darkly commanding" scenes.

I had made my other selections from the clothing in the room too, and a note of a deviation that I wanted to take from what was described in the script. This, I would have to discuss with the director as soon as possible. I couldn't know for sure though, that the costume decisions I had made were right until Edward tried the clothes on. It was important for him to be comfortable in order for his character to work.

I shivered slightly, as I waited for Edward to arrive for his fittings. _Probably just nervous_, I thought. But actually, it was pretty cold in here. I had goose bumps on my arms, and my lacy bra wasn't doing anything to disguise the fact that I was bloody cold.

_Knew I should have brought the padded ones. It's not like I'm going to get lucky or anything..._

The sun had gone down, it was raining outside, and the electric heater really wasn't doing very much. I pulled the lightweight suit jacket I wore around me, wishing I had a couple more layers on. I had my favourite warm jumper up in my room. Five minutes till he's due, plenty of time. I hurried out of the room to go and change.

**Meeting for the second first time.**

**Edward POV**

I should be on a beach. I should be sitting in the sun surrounded by beautiful, bikini clad women, drinking one of those pansy assed drinks with stupid little umbrellas in. But where was I? Still working. In England. In bloody cold, wet autumn.

I was officially pissed off.

Alice had had the cheek to e-mail me pictures of the Caribbean beach house she had rented for me, each one jauntily tagged with the line "Bet you wish you were here!" Just so that I would know what I could look forward to as soon as these last few days of filming were over and what I could have been enjoying now, if someone, somewhere hadn't decided to add in these extra days.

Yes, officially really pissed off.

Today had started out well, but had gone downhill from there. I'd stayed with my parents for the few days between filming, and had had a great time being spoiled by my mum. I'd relaxed and unwound, and enjoyed her cooking, shooting the breeze with the old man and annoying Alice, all normal family stuff.

Then at lunchtime today, as arranged, a car had arrived to drive me to Sudbury, to this Georgian house that we were using as a base for the last four shooting days. Yes, I had Googled it. It was in the middle of nowhere, and had been used for locations for other films before. It actually looked quite comfortable, and I had been promised a "luxury room with all available amenities". So I shouldn't complain.

But the car broke down, in the middle of nowhere, in the rain. And there was no mobile network. That's how in the middle of nowhere it was. The driver tried for ages to work out what was wrong with the car. I looked under the bonnet to see if I could help, though I knew fuck all about cars. The driver eventually said that he would walk to the nearest bit of civilisation, however far that might be, and arrange for another car or a taxi or something. But I couldn't let him walk however many miles it was by himself. That would have just been shitty, so we grabbed my bags and walked however many miles it was to the next bit of civilisation together, trudging through puddles, talking about football, which he knew about and motor racing which I knew about. They were pretty one-sided conversations really. I was glad when we finally reached the next bit of civilisation, which turned out to be a pub.

Which was closed.

But had a phone box outside.

Thank God.

I finally arrived at the location, wet, tired, hungry and pissed off. So sue me, it had been a bad afternoon. There was only just time to change my wet clothes for semi dry ones from my apparently non-waterproof bags, and head down to my meeting with the new wardrobe lady. I really hoped this would be quick; I was starving and cold and wanted to go to bed and just forget this day had ever happened. At least it was nearly over and it couldn't get any worse.

Jessica was waiting for me in the hallway outside my room.

"I'll show you down to Bella's room," she offered with a smile, carefully polite.

She was a nice woman; she hadn't taken it personally when I had practically growled at her when I had first arrived, refused her offer of a quick tour, and curtly asked to be shown my room so I could change out of my sodden clothes and shoes. I smiled back at her now, hoping to make amends, and her face brightened speculatively. Shit, I may have turned on the charm a bit too much.

She walked beside me, glancing my way every now and again through her eyelashes as we descended the stairs. Jessica made sure to work her hips while I watched (because who wouldn't) and we stopped outside a room on the ground floor. Jessica moved in front of me and stepped a little closer, her chest now just a couple of inches away from mine. If we each took a deep breath we'd be touching. A brief moment of indecision flittered through my mind;

_Looks like I could have her if I wanted her, might make these four days go by a bit easier. She's pretty, a bit skinny maybe, nice and perky though..._

But then I remembered. I wasn't that guy any more. For a while there, I was ashamed to say, yes, I had been. And yes, I would have jumped at the blatantly offered chance before me. But now, I just wasn't interested in brief flings, no matter how sexy her hips had looked in her skinny jeans as they swayed down the stairs.

_What do I have to do to find a woman that I actually feel a connection with, rather than someone who just wants to screw me_?

I thought I had less chance now of finding something real than I ever had before. Everyone just seemed to believe the snowballing hype about me.

I took a small step backwards to try and avoid the possibility of perky breast to chest contact, and found myself backed up against the wall of the staircase. Jessica leaned forward (yep, contact), placed a hand on my shoulder and murmured in a seductive tone in my ear, "if there's anything I can get you, anything at all, just let me know. We want your stay here to be comfortable..."

I couldn't help it; I reacted instinctively.

As soon as I felt the back of her other hand brush against my crotch, I placed both of my hands around her upper arms, and pushed her away from me again, back to comparatively safe territory. The surprise made her unsteady, and I felt one of her knees buckle under her, so I carefully spun her around and leaned her against the wall in the place I had just been. I didn't let go of her arms though, as she felt unsteady still, and I didn't want to have to deal with a crumpled up woman at my feet. So I gently held her arms, even though she had now put both hands flat on my chest, and I could feel my thumbs pressing against the outside of her breasts.

_Goddamnit, they just get in the way, sticking out like that. How come when you really wanted to touch them, you could never create the opportunity, and yet when you really didn't want to..._

Her breaths were shallow and rapid but not, unfortunately, due to an imminent virginal faint, but from a very unvirginal reaction.

I honestly didn't want her. For one thing, I would never get involved with someone I worked with, even before this new life - too complicated. Jessica was lovely and seemed like a nice person, apart from the personal space issue, but I just wanted more from life now than a quick screw or a four day fling. God, was I turning into a dork at my age? I didn't want my life to be what they "reported" in the press. I wanted to feel a lasting connection that was more than just sex.

I didn't want to cause any discontent here, however since we had to work together. So I leaned forward slightly, still careful of the chest situation, and asked in as placatory voice as I could, "are you okay?"

Her eyelids fluttered and she smiled a smile that was shy but still familiar for all the wrong reasons. Before she could reply though, I continued in the same tone, "you're a lovely woman, Jessica, but I just want to concentrate on work while I'm here. I hope you understand that?" I gave her a small, crooked smile and tried to look softly imploring. I'm told I'm quite good at that. They made me practice it enough for photo shoots. She nodded her head slowly, seemingly mesmerised by my expression. I mentally high fived myself… _twenty nine and still got it_… and gently let go of her arms, trying hard not to brush against the sides of her breasts any more than I had to. She didn't make it easy though, as she had clamped her arms tightly to her body.

I stepped carefully away from her as she swayed towards me a bit, still caught under my spell it seemed. "I look forward to working with you, Jessica," I told her sincerely, hoping that she would keep things professional.

She shook her head slightly, and smiled somewhat ruefully at me. "Me too, Edward." And she pointed to the open doorway across the hall behind me. "That's Bella's room. I expect she's waiting for you." She turned and walked away on slightly unsteady legs, giving me an "I understand, but I still want you" look over her shoulder, before she turned a corner and disappeared.

I sighed with relief. That could have gone worse on several levels. At least no one had seen us. The thought of what the "Celebrity" magazines might print was nauseating, if not exactly new. As I thought this, I caught sight of movement at the top of the stairs above me.

_God, _did_ anyone see?_

I had a brief impression of a dark-clothed, bulky looking person, before they too disappeared. Oh well, just something else to add to the rumour mill. Alice wouldn't be pleased. I wondered how that little encounter had looked to an outsider, pretty bad probably. The possible headlines came to mind:

"_Edward Masen, boob fondler." _

"_Edward Masen wastes no time flirting with the crew."_

"_Edward Masen stared at my arse as soon as we met."_

_Actually that last one's almost true. Shit!_

My stomach growled painfully, and I became freshly aware of my slightly damp and decidedly chilled clothing_._

_Get on with the job, Masen. Best get this next bit over with. _

**Meeting for the second first time.**

**Bella POV**

**Part Two**

_God, he's only been in the house five minutes! Does he really have to try and charm the pants off the first female he comes across?_

My eyes prickled and I felt close to tears_. _Raising my hands_, _I swiped at my eyes angrily with my knuckles.

_Get a grip, you knew it was a possibility all those stories about him were true. Don't go getting all upset because your fantasy has crashed and burned._

I knew that the man I had conjured up in my mind was too good to be true, but somehow I'd still expected Edward to be like him. The sight of him whirling Jessica around and pushing her up against a wall while he whispered God knows what patented seduction lines in her ear had been a shock, but I was glad that I had seen it. It was good that my stupid fantasies were shown for what they were. Wasn't it? It hurt though. My heart felt like it was being clenched in an unforgiving fist. How stupid was I? Fantasy and reality were worlds apart, and there was no way that this man - this man that I had watched on screen and in interviews, had seen in countless photo shoots in glossy magazines, this amazing, sexy, commanding, mischievous, glorious man - hadn't been out making the most of everything he could get.

He probably loved all the clubs and parties that I would hate, loved the attention and fawning from fans and press that I would run from, and probably really loved the women. ALL of them. I was sickened at the thought of how pathetic I had been for the last two years as I followed him online, but not anymore, I vowed to myself. My infatuation with him ended now. After all, look what happened when fantasy came to life.

Crashed and burned.

I had had a bird's eye view from the top of the stairs as he had walked down them. The muscles in his long legs and firm backside flexing under the soft, worn denim of his jeans, his own eyes firmly fixed on Jessica's rear.

_Bastard._

_You were ogling too._

_That's different._

And his eyes, when he had leant in and whispered in Jessica's ear, that sinfully sexy smirk, the "let me have you" beg in his eyes. Oh God, he was completely irresistible to women. I couldn't blame Jessica at all. If he had looked at me that way...

_He's not going to look at _you_ that way. Jessica is beautiful and feminine and confident and..._

_All the things I'm not._

_And he's a womanising, arrogant, selfish, whore of a man who just happens to be gorgeous with the most kissable looking soft lips, and the most desirable firm bum, and beautiful deep, sinful eyes and..._

_No... no... get back on track..._

_... he is a chauvinistic, spoiled, egotistical, sleep-with-anyone man, and he is _not_ going to distract me. _

Pep talk out of the way, I walked slowly down the rest of the stairs and mentally prepared to face him. Obviously, he was used to getting what he wanted. He probably charmed everyone he met into submission. And normally, I would have been absolute putty in his hands, but, I decided, that wasn't going to be me today. I could cry later when I was in my room, but for now, he was just a man, not The Edward Masen.

_Okay, find that inner strength and actually use it in the real world. Fake it till you make it, and whatever the hell else they say at times like this._

_Oh God, please don't let me make an idiot of myself in front of him._

_Okay, Bella, fantasies put away, dreams crushed, heart broken, reality a bitch. But we've got a job to do here, right?_

_Right._

_So, decided then. Yes?_

Sigh.

_...Yes._

Decided. I knew that the only way I would be able to do this would be if I did my damnedest to pretend it was anyone other than Edward in front of me. Looking into those beautiful eyes would probably be more than I could stand. I had so many embarrassing fantasies about him that if he even tried to turn on the charm, I would melt. God, being in love with a mythical being was a real pain.

Nice and warm now from the flannel shirt, and thick baggy jumper I had changed into, not to mention the little ball of tentative determination inside me, I took a deep, and only slightly shaking breath, grabbed hold of my fledgling self-belief, and strode fake-confidently into my room to face Edward Masen for the second first time.

**Meeting For the Second First Time**

**Edward POV**

**Part Two**

The room was empty when I walked into it, cold and empty. I had busted my arse to get here on time, battled the English weather, fended off a woman's advances, and now she was late. My damp clothes instantly felt colder, my stomach felt emptier, and my legs ached from sloshing through mud and puddles. Little paper umbrellas on sunny beaches were taunting me. Damn it, she could at least be here on time. I heard a sound behind me and spun around to find the source. A woman was walking into the room towards me. Tall, dark, confident was my first impression. She didn't look at me as she strode past as if I wasn't here. I felt unexpectedly slighted.

"You're late," I snapped at her retreating back.

_Shit, did I just say that?_

Mum would kill me if she heard me talk to someone like that. It was an instinctive seven-year-old's reaction - automatic for some reason. I wanted her to notice me, so I was rude to her. What was wrong with me? I was about to apologise when the woman replied to my pithy greeting quite sharply herself.

"Sorry, shall we get started then?"

She didn't turn to meet my gaze, but continued moving away from me, towards a rail of clothing on the other side of the room. I was still embarrassed by my rude behaviour and was about to try and apologise again, when I found myself completely distracted.

Something about her had caught me and stopped the words in my mouth from forming.

_Oh... what... why..._

_For God's sake pull yourself together man._

_Yeah but... she... I can't... I don't know..._

What the hell was wrong with me? I couldn't even form a coherent thought in my head, let alone construct a sentence. It was as if she made my mind go blank.

How had she done that? She was just an ordinary woman wasn't she?

Studying her, I didn't know what to make of her at all; she was an enigma walking away from me. She wasn't very young I didn't think, but she wasn't old either. She had had the confident expression of a mature woman when I had seen her face briefly, but the nervous hands of a young girl. There was something vaguely familiar about her, but I didn't know quite what.

She was dressed in a hideous black jumper that seemed to be swallowing her, from neck to knees almost, and which gave her an unnaturally bulky appearance. It was impossible to tell what lay beneath it all. She could have been slim or curvaceous. Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a bunch at the back of her neck with an elastic thing, and she seemed to have no makeup on, no nail varnish, no jewellery. There was nothing to make her stand out from every other ordinary woman.

So why did I feel so curious about her? Why did I want to know more about her and not about all the other women I met in the course of my work? How did she manage to render me almost speechless within seconds of meeting her?

I frowned in frustration; for some reason I really wanted to know the answers to all the questions I suddenly had about her. Like with the Mona Lisa. You just do.

"In case no one told you," she began in a smooth, low voice, pulling me from my confused thoughts, "my name is Bella Swan, and I'm the wardrobe manager for this shoot. I've got some things here I'd like you to try on, and of course I would welcome your input on what you think your character would feel about them." She didn't look very welcoming, anything but. In fact she seemed, if anything, to dislike me. Well, that could soon be sorted.

I smiled my most charming smile, the one, bizarrely, I had won awards for, and tried to look contrite. Obviously we had got off on the wrong foot somehow, though I was buggered if I knew how, and I was sure that we could get past it, so that I could satisfy this… longing I had, to know more about her.

Her eyes flickered to my mouth, briefly observing my smile, and then flickered away again. What the hell? I couldn't discern a single reaction to me. Not a thing. That smile never failed. Even my mum fell for that smile.

Damn it, she didn't dislike me, she hated me.

"I'd like you to try these suits on first please, Mr Masen," she resumed, looking at the ground by my feet. Her voice was very soft and melodic; it didn't match her hard demeanour at all. She was a real contradiction.

"I'm afraid that we don't have proper changing facilities for you," she continued, in the same soft tone, still not meeting my eyes, "but, you can change in private behind these rails here." She gestured towards the costume rails beside her where hangers with shirts, suits, trousers and coats crowded together. "I think the suits were custom made so they shouldn't be a problem, but I like to check." She stood looking expectantly at me, waiting for me to obediently follow her instructions. And rather to my surprise, I did. What was it about her that made me feel as though I should do as I was told?

Still puzzling, I stepped behind the rail, and breathed a sigh of relief. Rubbing my chest I realised I had been holding my breath. As if I was afraid to breathe in her scent or something. This curiosity I felt towards her, this weird connection was unlike anything I had ever felt before.

_What the hell was that? Was it real?_

_I _am_ pretty tired and hungry, that makes you imagine things right?_

_Oh for God's sake, I ate a huge breakfast at mums a few hours ago. I'm hardly starving to death here._

_What the hell did she do to me?_ _And what did I do to her to make her hate me?_

I grabbed the first garment bag that was hanging there for me and buckled down to doing my job. It was easier to think straight when those hazel eyes weren't following my movements and her gentle voice wasn't floating in the air around me.

_Hazel eyes? Gentle voice? Get a grip, man!_

I unzipped the bag. Gucci. Concentrate on the Gucci. Suit, shirt and tie. Have to admit, I love Gucci. Not something I ever could have said a few years ago! Grinning ruefully, and managing to put my strange reaction to the back of my mind, now that I was blessedly away from her, I quickly changed into the suit, and stepped out so that Ms Swan could give her nod of approval or not. I had a feeling that "not" was a very real possibility with her.

My relaxation didn't last long. About as long as it took for me to step out from behind the rail and back under her gaze again. My eyes unconsciously sought out hers, and it was with a dawning sense of realisation that I decided I could be in trouble here.

She stood in front of me, hands on hips, and looked me up and down, from my feet in my damp Scooby Doo socks - a present from Alice - up my legs, over my stomach and chest, and onwards towards my shoulders. I swear I felt every inch of skin burn as she passed her eyes over it.

_Real trouble._

She was quite tall for a woman and her shapely hips and waist were briefly outlined as she pulled in the baggy jumper with her fists. She looked perfectly shaped.

_Whole hell of a lot of trouble._

With a look of concentration on her face, she walked slowly around me. As soon as she disappeared from my sight, I felt shivers run up and down me, alternating with the burning sensation I swear I felt on my skin. My backside in particular tingled hotly. Was she looking at my arse? The temptation to whip round and try and catch her was almost overwhelming.

_Well, you wanted to feel a connection and you certainly are feeling one now. Pity it's not quite what you were expecting._

_She's not treating me like everyone else does._

_That's for sure._

_Not coming on to me, not giggling at me, not hanging on to my every word. Not that I've actually managed many of those anyway._

_Nice work, idiot._

Ms Swan stepped back in front of me, pursed her lips, and looked me up and down again. Now, when a woman does that to a guy, he is going to have a reaction of some sort, and the reaction was usually centred in the groin area. These slim cut, formal trousers I was wearing, had very little chance of hiding_that_ from anyone.

_Hell, this could get embarrassing._

But luckily, after the usual stirrings had just begun to make themselves known, I looked into her face, and what I saw there was enough to make my balls et al, shrink back into my body and hide.

Her pale pink lips were pursed into a straight hard line, her eyes were stern and her forehead creased, as if she disapproved of what she was seeing. I was shocked. Since when, in the last couple of years, had a woman found me disappointing? Yeah, vain I know, but apart from my looks, which were hardly my fault, and my body, which I kept toned as part of my job but didn't work very hard at, I was genuinely a nice guy. Women liked me, damn it. I wasn't used to seeing anything other than pleasure on a woman's face when she was with me. Ms Swan was feeling anything but pleasure.

I found myself not wanting to disappoint her. What the hell was it about this woman? Who exactly was this Bella Swan, and how was it she had such control over me in such a short space of time? I ran my hand through my hair in agitation, needing the normal, relaxing motion, to try and calm myself down a bit. I didn't like feeling like this at all. Oh, who was I kidding? Despite the fact that it was mostly negative, this was the strongest emotional response I had felt about someone in years. It was intriguing, exciting, stimulating. And scary as fuck.

_I am in so much trouble._

She dismissed me to go and change into the second suit, reminding me coolly to hang the shirt up, and not leave it on the chair. I gritted my teeth in irritation at her attitude. What am I? Four years old? She reminded me of my primary school teacher, Mrs Bolton. God, that woman had hated me. She had looked down at me with that same pursed lip, slightly disappointed expression on her face too.

I put the second suit on and stepped out in front of Ms Swan with some trepidation. Would she like what she saw now? Was she going to disapprove of me? And when the hell had my childhood insecurities come back?

~~oo0oo~~

When she'd finished forcing me into suits, jeans and shirts, and making notes on an A4 pad, we moved onto T-shirts. Fuck me. I was pretty much at the end of my tether now. I was exhausted and an emotional wreck. And God knows, I don't often let a girlie admission like that in my head. A T-shirt was a T-shirt Goddamnit, but Ms Swan, calmly and irritatingly, insisted that they were all different, and that she needed to get the right 'fit'.

My hair was sticking up all over the place from the constant tugging by my hands, and I had to fight the urge to bite my nails, something I hadn't done for years. My skin felt raw - like it had been onced-overed with a Brillo pad - from all the burning I had felt, as she ran her eyes over me.

I sighed. I really needed to get this over with so that I could get as far away from her as possible. This draw that I felt towards her was exhausting and confusing, and I just wanted to get away from it, so that I didn't have to think about it anymore.

I was damned cold now too, my stomach was grumbling almost nonstop, and I hadn't heard a single complimentary word from the teacher's lips in the whole hour and a half that we had been here.

Despite what the press often said, I wasn't an attention whore, and I didn't need to have my ego stroked everywhere I went. But would it have killed her just to say one nice thing? One smile? One nod of approval? I couldn't remember having such a strong reaction to anyone before, let alone a negative one. I was a pretty laid back kind of guy, I always tried to get along with everyone, and people usually liked me, but she was most definitely the exception to the norm.

She wouldn't look me in the eye, she spoke to me like I really was a disappointing child, and for some reason that I just couldn't fathom, she hated me. I was frustrated that I didn't know what she was thinking, understand her behaviour or even know what she really looked like damn it, covered up as she was. Why was she making me feel this way? Who the hell was this woman, and why did she hate me so much?

I had tried to get a reaction from her, looking at her challengingly, hoping to crack open that tough exterior and find some of the answers within, but she had never cracked. Not once. Not when she checked the fit of jeans, the length of the shirt sleeves or the size of a coat. She was a machine.

I gritted my teeth, long past the "try and win her over" plan I had begun with, and now into the "grit your teeth and it will all be over soon" frame of mind. This woman just wound me up. I should just get the hell out of this room as soon as possible, and forget all about her. It looked like nothing I did would ever be right by her.

Why did that make me feel so empty?

**Meeting For the Second First Time**

**Bella POV**

**Part three**

God, this man was so right it was wrong. From his gorgeous arse in Gucci, to jeans that hung so dangerously low on his hips, it should be illegal. I couldn't believe I was so lucky to be so close to him like this. Every time he disappeared behind the rail to change, my mouth went dry at the thought of what might be being revealed behind there. Why the hell had I made the changing area again? Stupid damn idea!

The "not looking him in the eye" plan only kind of worked because if I didn't look at his eyes, where else could I look? I was going to have a hell of a headache from the force it was taking me to stand tall and not disintegrate into a salivating heap on the floor at his feet. In his Scooby Doo socks. God, even cartoon socks were attractive on him.

I was such a mess. I was disappointed in him emotionally, but still desperately attracted to him physically. It was exhausting and confusing.

Emotionally, he was everything I didn't want in a man. Attention seeking, womanising and arrogant. He was such a huge disappointment to me, I felt like crying.

He was, however, physically everything I could ever want in a man, and the knowledge that I wasn't worthy of him, and would never have him, was sitting like a lump of lead in the pit of my stomach. Like kryptonite, draining me of hopes, dreams and desire. Okay, the desire wasn't exactly drained; it was still there. It took all my concentration to bury it down deep and to try to appear detached and professional.

This was inconvenient.

I might have an extremely active – okay, overactive- imagination, but, I never brought it into real life. Sitting at a distance, quietly observing a good-looking guy, was about as far as I went. I never, ever, actually spoke to any of them. Edward, being famous and so far out of my reach, had seemed like a figment of my imagination, except with photos and news stories everywhere. I was having a hard time getting my brain to stop picturing Fantasy Edward now that he was Real Edward and I wasn't allowed to think about him anymore. That could only lead to trouble. And heart ache. And, almost certainly, lots and lots of embarrassment.

So confusing.

As for him, every time he stepped out from behind the rail, there was a defiant, challenging look on his face. As if he was daring me to find fault with him. As if he wanted me to fawn over him and was angry that I didn't. Arrogant bastard. He knew he was perfection and didn't like that I wasn't sucking up to him like everyone else did. God knows I wanted to, but he was looking disdainfully down at me from his six foot two height, and it was driving me crazy.

It was so not fair for me to still crave him, and yet positively hate him at the same time. How had that happened? I had been happy when I was just following him on Google; he was perfect then. Before I actually met him. Why couldn't he be as nice a guy as I had always imagined he was?

_Because this is real life, idiot._

_And it wouldn't make any difference anyway. He'll never want you. You'll never have him. Get real._

Sighing internally, I got on with the job. We just had the T-shirts to sort out now. In the main shoots he had been dressed in T-shirts that frankly just hung off his body. I wanted to find a fit that showed off his athletic figure to perfection for the action scenes that were planned for tomorrow. I had pulled a few designer T-shirts out of the boxes for him to try on, but I was pretty sure that they would be too big.

He wasn't happy about it; he was making that perfectly clear. But in the "make him sexy" campaign, well-fitted T-shirts that showed off his gorgeous body were essential.

His own jeans were low-waisted, soft looking denim, with designer worn patches in various places. He opted not to go behind the make shift screens to pull his T-shirt off; he was pretty fed up with the fittings by now I thought. I gulped as I realised that he was not moving from in front of me. His dishevelled hair was sticking up madly, a sign of the annoyed hair-pulling he had been doing, and the look of challenge in his eyes, which had been present earlier, was well and truly gone now. He looked tired and defeated, and I couldn't help the squeeze of pain in my chest, or the feeling of guilt, before telling myself that this was my job. I was only doing what any other costume designer would do in my place. He began to pull off his own T-shirt, which he was currently wearing, and my poor heart went into overdrive.

As he pulled the T-shirt up and over his head, I couldn't help but stare at the treasure trail of soft hair leading down to the waistband of his jeans and below. Really, the man was just so...

... delicious.

Oh God, was licking your lips a professional thing to do?

_Depends which profession..._

I was hard pressed to get my neutral expression back into place again before the T-shirt had cleared his head and he could see me. I silently handed him the new one to try on and really tried not to stare at his chest.

Really, really tried.

But failed.

The new T-shirt was too big on the shoulders, I reached up automatically and tucked back the fabric at the shoulder seam, making a mental note of the amount. The neckline was slightly too high. Tentatively, I ran my fingers around the collar, tracing a line down to where I imagined the V front should be, mentally measuring. The body was too loose, so I grabbed some pins from my kit on the table before walking around behind him, gathering the spare fabric at the arm seams, and placing a couple of the pins in to hold it in place.

I checked the amount of fabric left over his shoulder blades with my fingers. Running them gently from left to right, before moving around in front of him, and checking how subtly the new shape sat across his firm chest. Not too tight, not too loose. I ran my hand over the fabric again, feeling his breath hitch as I touched his tensed pectoral muscles.

Warm,

Hard.

And there was that heat again, like I felt the first time I had touched him two years ago. It felt like warm melted chocolate was flowing from his body into mine. It was comforting, seductive, exciting and addictive all at the same time. I was afraid of this feeling and yet I wanted more. What the hell was it? I pulled my hand away from his chest and mourned the loss of contact.

I turned my attention to his stomach. Too much spare fabric again. I carefully gathered a little fabric at the side seams and placed some more pins. I held a side of the T-shirt in each hand and surveyed the result, necessarily close to him, as my arms were stretched out at each of his sides. His abs would be just about visible when he flexed and moved, I decided. I pulled the fabric slightly, demonstrating to myself the effect of movement, seeing the muscle definition beneath the fabric. I did it again, just to be sure, and unable to prevent myself, I placed the palm of my right hand against his flat stomach.

Warm,

Hard.

Heat flowing from his body to mine.

He made a small noise in his throat, halfway between a whimper and a groan. I might not have heard it if I hadn't been standing so close.

_He feels amazing, so hard and warm..._

_He smells amazing, faintly spicy, tangy..._

_He sounds amazing, that groan was..._

_What the hell am I doing?_

I hastily released the fabric in my hand, and stepped quickly away from him, horrified at what I had done. I couldn't help it; disliking him was such hard work, and my fantasy man had been standing there, right in front of me, available to touch. I'd just started acting on impulse. Sooner or later though, he was going to realise what I had only just realised - that I was not just fitting his T-shirt to him, but fondling his body. Oh God, I was going to get fired!

Not looking him in the eye, more humiliated and embarrassed at myself than I had ever been in my life, I mumbled out a few words, telling Edward that we were finished for the night. He carefully pulled the T-shirt back over his head, avoiding the pins, replaced it with his own, and walked wearily from the room, without a word or a glance at me. I didn't know which of us was the most relieved.

This was going to be a really long four days.


	5. Chapter 5

**LWW **

**Chapter 4**

**Dinner's at Eight**

**Bella POV**

I watched as Edward walked wearily out of the room and turned towards the stairs. My knees began to wobble alarmingly, I almost fell to the floor, and I had to grab onto the table to steady myself. How had I done that to him? Me, who couldn't even speak to a man in public without making an idiot of myself. I had touched him, caressed him… oh, bugger, I was in so much trouble. The only good thing, as far as I could see, was that I had managed to keep it all inside apart from those last few minutes of insanity.

I hadn't succumbed to his charm - not that there had been any, melted at his smiles - not many of those either, drooled at his velvet voice - didn't hear much of that... detecting a pattern?

Where was the irresistible man?

He obviously only turned on the charm for the good looking women.

He had snapped at me as soon as I had entered the room, a bit late, yes, but still, he had been rude about it. Then he had uttered not one thank you or any kind of polite conversation, just dark stares, frowns, and steely silence. Nothing like in interviews I had seen. Perhaps he really was a complete arsehole, and everything else was an actor at work.

Fantasy Edward and Real Edward couldn't be further apart.

_Like with Jessica. In the hallway. Against the wall._

_I wish it had been me._

_Not going to happen, girl. He's an arsehole, remember?_

My middle name was officially Confused. He had done that to me. God, I hated him.

"It's gone eight o'clock, Bella. Dinners ready. Are you coming?" My thoughts were interrupted by Jessica's enquiring voice from the doorway. She was rounding up all her charges and making sure they got fed.

I realised I was faced with two options. Did I spend a few more minutes pulling myself together, having a pep talk, and trying to put annoying, infuriating, irritating, gorgeous, glorious Edward out of my mind? Or did I Petek into a room full of strangers with Jessica, a woman who Edward had pushed up against a Petel a short time ago while he... what? Asked her to sit by him at dinner? Asked her to his room later? Asked her to a broom cupboard there and then?

So which was the lesser of the two evils? To face a crowd alone or to walk with a woman who I wanted to hate? I decided on the latter. After all, the broom cupboard hadn't happened, and walking into a room full of strangers by myself was always my worst nightmare.

Putting on the best smile that I could, I muttered, "Sure, Jessica, I'm ready now. Let's go." She didn't seem to notice my lack of friendliness, or at least she politely chose to ignore it, and we walked together through the wood-panelled halls of the old house, towards the sounds and smells of a cheerful meal in progress.

Breaking the awkward silence between us, Jessica explained as we walked, "We're using the kitchen to eat in because the dining room is set up for a scene, and the breakfast room just isn't big enough for everybody." As we got nearer and nearer to what sounded like a lot of people, my fingers began to twist into the hem of my jumper as Jessica finished explaining, "The servants' table in the kitchen is huge, and we can all just about squeeze round it, I think!"

Breathing rapidly and trying not to think of what I was about to face, I asked nervously, "...Um... how many of us are there?" I pulled on the hem of my tatty jumper some more and hoped it didn't break some kind of dress code I knew nothing about.

Jessica smiled reassuringly at me as she replied, "Tonight there are fifteen staying in the house, plus security staff, who come on in shifts, and outside caterers, who set up and clear meals for us, but don't stay here. Over the next few days, there will be others, who are only on set for the day, joining us as well. It's not a bad sized crew. I've had to manage worse!" If I didn't hate her for being Edward's whatever, I would have quite liked her.

"Fifteen's quite a lot. Who are they all?" I asked quietly, still fiddling with my jumper. I hated, hated, hated crowds.

She took a deep breath before answering. "Crikey, let me think. There's you and Angela, who's our hair and makeup lady. Have you met her yet? There's Jason, the director; Pete, one of the producers; two sound guys and three grips. Then we've got the production designer, his name's Mike, you'll like him and first and second camera guys, though actually one of them is a woman, but they're both called Phil, which is a bit confusing. And we've also got Seth, our go-to guy. He's sweet. Who else is there? Oh, Edward and me, of course." I didn't like the way she had phrased that, but I was distracted from my stab of jealousy by the sounds of talking, laughing, and knives and forks on plates, which were getting louder.

"I've set up your meeting for directly after the meal if that's okay?" Jessica continued in a business-like tone. "Time's a bit of an issue, so Jason wanted to get it out of the way as soon as possible." My meeting. Shit. In all the stress of my time with Edward, I had forgotten about it.

_Be professional, remember?_

"Sure, Jessica, that's fine. Thanks," I forced out firmly. On that, we entered my own personal lion's den.

The kitchen was large and warm, with stone walls and a double-height ceiling with windows high up along two of the sides. Any other observations though were impossible as my attention was held by the long table in the centre of the room which was surrounded by people laughing, talking, and gesturing animatedly.

Plates, cups, bottles, and platters of food covered every inch of available space on the table, and people were helping themselves cheerfully. Glancing round desperately - while trying not to look like I was desperate, meet anybody's eyes, or trip over my own feet - my sight settled on one end of the table where there were a couple of empty seats surrounded by slightly less animated people. I naturally gravitated towards the less conspicuous end of the table.

Seeing my inclination to head that way, Jessica supplied helpfully, "That's Angela in the green top and Seth in the Michael Jackson t-shirt. I think he's still in mourning. Apparently he does great Michael Jackson impersonations. We'll find out tomorrow, I'm organising a karaoke night for us all." Just when I thought my day couldn't get any worse. "I need to give the caterers a hand, so I'll catch you later, okay?" she finished, looking at me like she was actually expecting an answer, which was nice of her, so I nodded cautiously.

Easing carefully onto one of the empty seats so as not to trip and draw attention to myself, I smiled tentatively at the green-shirted Angela, and muttered, "Hi." I'm such a great conversationalist.

"Hi," she replied back brightly with a friendly smile. "Help yourself to whatever you want to eat. I think they said there's more if we need it." She was about my age I noted and had a slightly motherly likes-to-help-people kind of feel to her.

Seth, the Michael Jackson fan on my other side, nodded enthusiastically. "It's great, too." He waved a forkful of food in the air. "Better than my Mum's!"

Angela laughed at him and said, "You'd better not tell her that though!"

Seth made a horrified face. "God, no, she'd kick me out!" But he said it with a laugh and a wink at me, and I couldn't help smiling with him. Relaxing a little, I helped myself to chicken wings, salad, and chips before Seth could eat them all, which looked like it might be a possibility, and glanced cautiously around the table.

I was sat at one end of the long rectangular table with Angela on one side of me and Seth on the other. Opposite me was an empty seat, and next to it, an older man nibbled delicately on his chicken. He caught my eye, raised the chicken piece in the air jauntily, and nodded a greeting as he ate.

"This is Alistair," Angela introduced him, and the neat little man nodded again. I smiled in return to him and flicked a glance further down the table, dreading seeing Edward, but he wasn't here yet. I quickly brought my eyes back to my plate and concentrated on my food. Another empty chair sat close to the far end of the table, and I hoped that he would choose to sit there when he did arrive.

"It's quite a crew, isn't it?" Angela said to me, leaning closer to be heard above the chatter. "Did you work on the main part of the film or are you new, too?"

"I'm new. I don't know any of them," I replied quietly, raising my eyes to hers briefly before looking back at my plate again.

The noise from the rest of the table was quite obviously the sound of people who already knew each other. There was no cautious feeling out of one another; that had already been done. There were snippets of catch up gossip and plans for the future, and everyone seemed cheerful and content. I looked around our quieter end of the table and felt comfortable enough to turn and ask, "Are you new, Seth?"

He nodded his head eagerly. "Yep, it's my first job. I love it!" He had the air of a kid enjoying a rare day off from school, and I couldn't help but smile at him as he said, "Mum thinks I should get a proper job, but I said I'd rather starve than sit behind a desk all day!"

As he spoke, from the corner of my eye, I noticed movement to my left; a tall figure appeared in the doorway. Edward. He glanced around the table, his gaze taking everything in, including the two empty seats at opposite ends. The seat next to Alistair was slightly closer to him, but his eyes fell on me and hardened into narrow slits, before he turned decisively and walked towards the empty seat at the other end of the table. The smile I had been wearing for Seth slid from my face. Well, I didn't want him to sit here anyway.

Alistair looked speculatively at me as, with difficulty, I pulled my attention away from watching Edward lower his tall body gracefully into his seat while shaking hands and smiling widely with someone next to him. I avoided Alistair's eyes and fiddled with my cutlery, suddenly not feeling all that hungry. An uncomfortable and unwelcome tight sort of feeling invaded my chest. Edward could have sat here, couldn't he?

_He doesn't know as many people at this end of the table, idiot._

_Well, that and the fact he obviously hates you._

Alistair snickered quietly to himself as he reached for the bowl of chips. I just knew he was laughing at me. Had I been too obvious when I watched Edward sit down? I sunk further down in my seat and wondered how soon I could politely leave. After a few minutes, Seth and Angela began a lively conversation around me about bands they had been to see play, and Alistair seemed to be content to concentrate on his food, so I couldn't resist having another quick look down the table at Edward. A quick look couldn't hurt, could it?

Angela glanced at me and caught me looking. "Isn't he lovely?" she asked, a slightly wistful hint to her voice. "If only I weren't happily married! I worked with him on one of his previous films, and he was lovely." She carried on extolling his virtues before switching back to talking about her husband and son, and I had a hard time concentrating on the conversation.

Whenever I thought I could get away with it, I glanced away from Angela and watched and listened to him.

I watched as he talked and laughed comfortably with those surrounding him. I listened as he joined in with the conversations easily, never hogging the discussions, always listening intently to the others and offering intelligent responses to questions or funny cracks when called for. His whole face was alight with openness and enjoyment.

At one point, I watched as he smiled delightedly at something someone said to him, watched as his expressive face became alive with emotion. His eyes sparkled and crinkled, his cheeks dimpled, and his neck stretched and flexed as he threw his head back and laughed whole heartedly. My breath caught, and my heart hammered at double time inside my chest. He was... just as I'd always imagined him.

Until he turned his head and glanced at me.

I could almost feel the ice ghosting down the table and sliding across my skin, halting my out of control heart almost completely. He hated me. I knew it. I could feel it. I could almost taste it. Had I really been that horrible to him during the fittings earlier? Sure, I had tried very hard to be unresponsive to him, but I didn't realise I had been quite this successful at rebuffing him and, yes, I admit it, putting him in his place. I had tried to act competently and professionally.

Mostly.

I was confused. He seemed so... likeable here, surrounded by all these people. I watched as he spoke to a woman who I had heard called Phil and to a blond haired woman as they all ate. He was warm and friendly, not pushing himself towards them as he had done with Jessica earlier and not ignoring them or being rude to them as he had with me.

_Get real, girl. Remember all those stories in the press? They can't all be false. He's a womaniser. Look at how he acted with Jessica, and he is photographed with loads of different women all the time. _

_Yes, but look at him now..._

Watching him interact with his co-workers, he just didn't seem to fit what I thought he would be after what I had witnessed earlier. He was an actor though; he could just be putting on a show now. But everyone seemed to genuinely like him. He couldn't be that good an actor all the time, could he?

My head hurt. It was all too confusing. When he had been with me earlier, he hadn't been like this, all friendly and likeable. He hadn't even spoken to me apart from a few words when I asked how something fit or if it was comfortable. He glared at me, frowned at me or ignored me. Bastard.

But the last few minutes I spent with him, touching him, breathing him in...

Oh, God, that had been heaven.

I cringed as I thought about my behaviour. I had been teetering on the border of sexual harassment. Teetering hell, I had well and truly crossed it. I had stroked the man's chest for God's sake. I had pressed my hand to his stomach and revelled in the warmth. Where exactly in the fitting handbook did it say that you had to measure the warmth of a man's stomach? To test the flex of his abdominal muscles? To revel in the heat that flowed up your arm and glowed in your heart?

_What the hell. Where did _that_ come from?_

All right, I had to admit it. I was still seriously attracted to him even though he obviously wanted nothing to do with me. My pep talk had not managed to get my disobedient heart in line, even if I had managed to not show it. Damn, these few days were going to be hell.

Jessica was sat at the table now too, squeezing in an extra chair down at the lively end of the table. He had smiled at her as she sat, laughed with her. Yes, I had been watching, surreptitiously, I hoped. But I couldn't help it. I couldn't stop watching him, couldn't stop thinking about he and Jessica together. The green-eyed bitch in me was well and truly out.

I think I hated myself.

I definitely hated him.

Because the only looks I got from him were darkly glowering ones; hard glares when he caught me looking before I could snatch my gaze away, frowns when he thought I wasn't.

I watched as he chatted happily with a couple of the caterers as they brought desserts to the table. He was thanking them for the great food. Was he that good an actor or was he genuinely a nice guy? Between the icy cold glares he sent me and the flares of heat I felt inside whenever I saw him smile or heard him laugh, I was a mess. Perhaps I was coming down with the flu or something? That would explain the temperature issues.

_Doesn't explain why your heart leaps when he smiles or why your insides are athrobbing, girl, does it?_

_Shut up. Trying to rationalise here._

Just in case I was having hot flushes due to the warmth of the room, I pulled my jumper off, getting embarrassingly stuck halfway. Why, oh, why, could I not even do something as simple as take a layer of clothing off without making an idiot of myself? Angela helped me reconnoitre my way out of the large black mess, and I emerged, red-faced, with static hair all over the place and just dying of embarrassment.

_Way to make a good impression there._

_Shut. Up._

I spent the rest of the meal determinedly not looking down the table at Edward - or anyone else if possible - after my public humiliation. When I did glance their way, Jessica seemed to be avoiding Edward's gaze, too. She seemed embarrassed, but I couldn't work out why. Perhaps she was just trying not to draw attention to the two of them. I wondered when they were going to meet up. After dinner? Later, when everyone else was asleep? Suddenly, I didn't really want to know and turned and made more of an effort to concentrate on what Seth was telling me about his family.

~oo0oo~

The meal was over. It was time for the next bit of torture.

People were leaving the kitchen in scattered groups, going to work some more or off to relax in front of the big screen TV that Jessica had said was set up in one of the other rooms. I was desperate to steal away to my room and escape the continuing torture of socialising, but I needed to discuss the costume choices I had made with Jason Hudson, our Oscar winning director.

Jessica said she had set up the meeting for directly after the meal, so this was it. Glancing down the table, I saw that both Jason and Pete were looking at me expectantly, as well as Mike, the film's production designer. They were waiting for me to make the first move.

_Oh, shit. This is it._

I had sat at the table all through the meal like a quiet little rabbit, normal for me, but now, I had to gather my professional courage and get the show on the road. We had never worked together before, so it was a bit like a blind date. God, how I hated those. I needed these men to trust my professional judgement, so confidence and honesty were important.

I felt, rather than saw, a pair of dark green eyes fall on me from the seat next to Jason Scott as Edward turned his head away from Jason's and towards me. Had Edward just said something about me? Would I now get fired for groping the leading man? Jason didn't look angry though, merely slightly bored with waiting if anything. They looked as though they expected this meeting to be a short formality. Well, it would be if they didn't agree with what I was proposing.

The heavy, expressive brows over the stormy green eyes were drawn together. Edward was glaring at me –again - but he also looked like he was puzzling over something of huge significance. Well, that was okay then, as long as he wasn't thinking about me. Damn the man, was he still sitting there deliberately to annoy me? Couldn't he go off and hook up with Jessica or something? Was he thinking of interrupting our meeting and making me look bad?

_So not going to happen, mister_.

His expression just ignited a burning fire in me, one that was only there whenever he was near me, it seemed.

_He is so infuriating._ _Stop glaring at me, damn it._

I stood up abruptly, determined that this meeting would go well.

_I'll show you, you arrogant bastard._

I walked the few places down the table to the three powerful men who held my future in their hands. Ignoring Edward, completely shutting him out of my mind, though not, unfortunately, my body, I smiled politely at Jason and Pete, offered my hand across the table to them each in turn, and spoke.

"Mr Scott, Mr Grint, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Bella Swan, your wardrobe manager for this shoot."

_Blimey, where has that confidence come from?_

The two men seemed to mentally re-evaluate me as I firmly shook both their hands.

_Ha, stick that in your pipe and smoke it, Mr Edward-Film-Star-Masen. I will not be intimidated by you._

I turned to offer my hand to Mike, who was sat on the opposite side of the table to the others. He smiled kindly up at me as he said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Bella." Well, so far so good then.

"I'd like to briefly discuss the costume for the scenes we're filming this week if you have time now?" I looked around at all three of them, still trying to unobtrusively ignore Edward, who sat glowering in between them all. Damn him.

I wasn't a complete idiot. These three men that I needed to impress, or at least prove my competency to, were so much further up the list of people who mattered around here than I was. I was pretty sure I had shown them with my handshake and confident attitude, wherever they had come from, that I meant business, so showing some respect was not a sign of weakness.

"Yes, of course, Bella. Let's get to it." Jason was business-like and obviously eager to get on to more important things. "Maggie Gardiner has done a great job with the rest of the film," he continued, eyeing me over the top of his glasses, "I hope she has everything set up for you for these additional scenes." He wasn't expecting me to do anything more than follow Maggie's lead. Normally, I would have been more than happy to do that, but, I reminded myself, this was my chance.

"Yes, sir, she has. But I wanted to discuss some small changes I'd like to make."

Jason held my gaze, Pete raised his eyebrows slightly. From beside them, I felt another set of brows rising, another set of eyes assessing me.

Stormy green ones.

"Changes. Well, yes, if you think they are necessary." The emphasis Jason placed was on the word you.

"I have my notes. Shall I fetch them or would you like to come to my office? I can show you the choices I've made." My gaze didn't waver. Confident. Sure of my professional decisions. They regarded me with dawning tinges of respect.

_Yes!_

_Where was I pulling this from? This was great._

"We'll come to you, shall we?" Mike asked, as they rose and made their way around the table. Round one to me. Hell yes! Just the difficult bits to go. Politely, they allowed me to precede them through the door to the hallway and followed as I moved to lead the way towards my "office" and away from the disturbing green-eyed gaze. Strangely, I felt the confidence fade the nearer we got to my room. I hung onto it as best I could though; I was going to need it.

~oo0oo~

Our job here was to come to an agreement. Looking over the sketches I'd drawn, the continuity shots from the first part of filming, and the scripts, Mike, Pete, Jason, and I seemed to be doing okay. I had chosen costume that complemented Mike's overall plan for the film's atmosphere and Jason's ideas for pace and characterisation. All except for the Declaration scene.

Pete wanted the scene to scream sex, even though the two characters in the scene don't even touch each other. Edward's character, Liam, is declaring his love for his girlfriend, and Pete wanted to use the opportunity to 'spice up' the film.

Capitalising on Edwards's popularity, the scene was to be set in a bedroom, with Edward naked. Believe it or not, I wanted him dressed. Crazy or what? But I was speaking as a woman, as well as a costume designer, when I chose what I wanted Edward to wear for this scene. And, damn it, as a woman between fifteen and fifty, I _was_ the film's target demographic. I knew what I was talking about. In a later scene, Liam and his girlfriend make love, naked in bed. The Declaration scene was all about seduction. The later lovemaking scene was pure sex. This was the point I was trying to get across.

"Why do you want him to wear a suit? I don't get it?" Pete was puzzled, digging his heels in, as was his right - he was the producer after all, but I was digging my heels in, too. I wasn't giving up my ideas without a fight.

I took a deep breath and began to explain, "The script says that Liam walks into the bedroom and approaches his girlfriend. I'm suggesting that, instead of him being already undressed, he starts to take his clothes off as he walks across the room and ends up in front of her, wearing his dark trousers and his undone white shirt." I looked expectantly at them. It was a classic strip tease, sexy as hell. They couldn't seem to get beyond wanting to give the audience as much naked Edward as possible though. I needed to explain my reasoning. "It's the wondering what's under the last pieces of clothing that makes it even more attractive," I argued persuasively. "The audience will have to work at it a little bit more. Suggestion, hints, and glimpses are what they'll get. It's what seduction is all about."

The three of them looked impassively up at me from their seats on the other side of the huge table. It felt like I was facing a jury, which, I was.

I tried again, "Half-clothed is sometimes better than not clothed at all. Why do you think the lingerie business is so huge?" I thought this was a good argument. They were men, surely they'd see where I was going with this? "It's the teasing that is so sexy, rather than just giving the audience everything they want straight away." They weren't buying this. Desperately, I placed my hands on the table, leaned towards them, and asked seriously, "Haven't you ever looked at a hint of cleavage and fantasised about what the rest of the body might be like underneath the clothes?"

Three pairs of male eyes swung slowly up to gaze at _my_ hint of cleavage, which I was now inadvertently showing by leaning towards them across the table.

_Shit. Should have left the jumper on._

I think the burning blush started at the roots of my hair and spread right down to the tips of my toes. It bloody felt like it.

_Suck it up. Grit your teeth. Get over it._

The silence and the speculation from the three men went on for years.

Breaking the excruciating tension, Mike coughed uncomfortably, and they all shifted in their seats slightly, thankfully dropping their eyes back down to the papers in front of them and beginning to shuffle through them.

"Well, of course, I can see what it is you're saying," Pete spoke carefully, "but do you think that it will be sexy enough though? We need to add some spice to the film with these new scenes, and we thought that showing off his body would do that. Women like that, don't they?" He looked over at Mike for confirmation of his assessment before looking back up at me again, eyebrows raised in question. I felt a fresh blush gathering itself.

"Yes, of course," I agreed quickly, "but sometimes less is more. Make 'em wait for it. The bedroom scene comes later in the film, and he will be naked for that, so why spoil that treat by watering it down?" I needed a final persuasive argument, something that would get them to realise that this would be beneficial for the film. "I guarantee you that he will look really sexy in the dress trousers and shirt, and the publicity shots that you could get from that scene alone would sell the film."

The three of them regarded me thoughtfully. My paltry words spinning round in their million pound brains. Oh, bloody hell. What was I doing telling these guys what to do? Was I mad?

"Okay," Pete said at last, making the decision. "We'll do it your way."

Mike nodded in agreement, before adding, "Yes, and I think you're right, Bella. We'll get the publicity photographer in as well; make the most of the opportunity. Pete, you can get hold of him tonight, right?" Pete nodded quickly.

"We'll get him in early and set up in another room," Jason added animatedly now, scribbling quickly into his notebook in front of him. "We might have to work longer to get the shots, but if you think it will be worth it..."

He looked expectantly up at me, and I nodded confidently in response.

Shit, what was I doing? Edward was going to hate me all over again for all the extra work, and Angela and everyone else that had to help prep the room, the lights, more people to feed...

They were all going to hate me if they found out it was my idea. And what if it didn't work? Would he really look sexy enough? At this point, I stopped myself. Hell yes, he would. That wasn't a problem.

"Okay then, sorted. Any other issues you want to discuss?" Jason looked up at me over his glasses again.

I shook my head. I hadn't planned on rocking the boat any more than that.

"Great. Well, I'm sure these are going to be some very successful scenes. I can see we're in good hands." He stood and reached forward, offering me his hand again. I did my utmost not to look shocked and took his hand firmly in mine and shook it.

"Thank you. I'm looking forward to working with you." Bloody hell, where did this assured sounding woman come from? The three of them smiled and nodded at me before they turned and made their way out of the room, heads together, discussing what they needed to do next.

I watched them leave and then looked around the room, still not believing what had happened. I was hopeful that the now empty room would be comforting after all that tension, but my eyes fell on the changing area, and I was reminded of the cold, unfriendly face of Edward as we had worked together earlier. I really needed to get out of there.

Turning sharply on my heeI, I walked from the room, praying I managed to get out without seeing anyone. I didn't feel like talking. Slipping into one of the furniture storage rooms to hide... er... gather my thoughts, I slumped back against the dusty, panelled wall and let out a huge sigh of relief. I had done it! I had successfully had a meeting with three powerful, intimidating people without collapsing into a gibbering heap! Not only that, I had disagreed with them and fought for my ideas! I didn't recognise myself. I was drunk on success.

Maybe I really would be able to do a good job here. Maybe these four days would be okay. As long as I managed to prevent myself from molesting the leading man, that is.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N** After some very helpful comments and suggestions I have decided to make some changes to The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. I am changing the female lead characters name from Kelly to Bella. A lot of people felt that they would enjoy the story better that way. I'm also changing a few of the other names too, but the rest of the story will remain exactly the same.

You might find it easier to follow along if you re-read from the beginning!

If you would prefer to continue reading the original version, I will be posting that up too. There is a link on my profile to show you where to find it.

If you would like to comment please leave a review or PM me!

**I Just Don't Know Anymore**

**Edward POV**

Holy Christ, look at that smile. I felt my knees go weak, and I was sitting down, damn it. Her head was turned away from me at the other end of the table, and I only caught the edges of her face as she smiled at something the boy she was sitting next to had said. But even from where I was sitting, I could see how her face had lit up with an inner glow, how her smooth cheek was pulled up into the cutest dimple.

_Cute? _

_Dimple?_

_What the hell was wrong with me?_

_I detested this woman a few minutes ago._

_Yeah, but that was before she smiled..._

_Oh, I am in so much trouble._

Frowning at my complete inability to get myself on an even keel around this woman, I turned back to the cheerful greetings of the crew around me as I settled into the seat at the long table in the kitchen.

_Keep your distance from her, and keep your sanity._

Yeah, good advice, but I thought I caught a flick of a glance from her and saw the smile slip from her face. She sunk back into her chair, smile gone, hard look back. I felt a stab of irrational jealousy that the boy on her right could have been favoured with the most beautiful smile, and yet all I warranted was a dark look and a distasteful expression. This woman really didn't like me. Well, that was okay; I really didn't like her either.

Look at her smiling and laughing with that boy and Alistair, too, of all people. I scowled at the boy next to her, what did he have that I didn't? Why did she offer her smiles to him and not me? Leaning forward in his seat a bit, Alistair turned his head and looked straight down the table at me, catching me scowling at her. He smirked gleefully. What was he up to? What was going through his head?

Laughing out loud now, he winked at me, actually bloody winked, and settled back into his seat still laughing at me. What did he think was going on? It was a good job I liked him.

If he had been down the hall in that dressing room during those fittings, he wouldn't be laughing now. If he had seen how she had treated me.

_And how you treated her._

Yeah, well, it had been a strange experience.

I had never been so glad to escape from someone in my life than I had from Ms Swan after those costume fittings. The maelstrom of emotions that I had felt throughout that tortuous experience had built up into such a peak that I wasn't sure anymore what was real and what I had imagined. And the whole time we had been together, there had been something… some feeling… some pull. At least, I think so. And I'm buggered if I can explain what it was. I couldn't possibly be attracted to her could I? Not with the way she had been treating me.

I took the opportunity during the busy chatter around me to study her for a moment, determined to catalogue and categorise her and get rid of this nagging uncertainty. My initial reaction was that I wasn't attracted to her and that hadn't changed, had it? Her hair was long and brown. If I had a preference, it was for blonds, so brunette hair didn't do it for me particularly. Even if it was long and a bit playfully curly and had the shine of chestnuts. Okay, so maybe that was nice.

She had what I think Alice called a heart shaped face. Fuck. I really spent way too much time with Alice if I knew a thing like that. Her cheeks were full and dimpled when she smiled. Normally I liked women with high sharp cheek bones and slender faces, so her rounded cheeks were not what I liked especially. Well, used to like, I guess, because, actually, that was kind of pretty.

Her skin was okay. Actually, her skin was lovely; smooth, pale, and pretty much flawless except for… I leaned down the table a bit, as if the extra few inches would help. Was that a freckle? I squinted my eyes, frustrated that I wasn't close enough to be able to make it out well. Just under and to the side of her left eye, it was small, and a barely there light brown, but it just showed on her otherwise flawless left cheek. As I watched, a pale pink flushed her cheek at something the woman on her left said and then faded again. She was quick to blush then. Cute.

Her eyes, I knew, were hazel, and I wasn't close enough to see any more details about the colour, but the eyelashes that ringed them were long and curved, resting on her cheek when she looked down at her plate, which was pretty often, or curving up and away from her face looking impossibly long when she blinked or looked up. Where they real? Women used fake ones a lot, didn't they?

Carrying on my inappropriately sexist perusal, I settled next on her lips. Now that she was relaxed, they were pouty, not thin, and the pink colour may have been makeup, but it was pale and understated. She wanted to blend in, not stand out, which certainly made a change in this business.

I glanced down her slender neck towards the Promised Land, but the jumper she was wearing was so bulky and disfiguring that it was impossible to tell what was under it. But I already had been given a tantalising taste. I knew she didn't have sleek, slim hips, which I usually liked, but soft full curves that rounded into a contrastingly narrow waist. I had seen no sign of her breasts apart from the barest hint of a swell under the thick heavy jumper, but, from what I had seen, I could guess that they would be as rounded as her hips. Again, not slim and petite, which is what I preferred. Didn't I? Yes, I did. So why this reaction to her? Had I imagined it?

The memory of her warm hand on my body came bursting back at me, the flow of warmth that had seemed to spread from her hand into my body. That had been real, hadn't it? Not that I'd ever felt anything like that before, so I had no point of reference at all. She had had some pins that she was sticking into the material of the t-shirt. Pulling it this way and that with her hands. Damn, it was just a fleeting touch from her, barely there, and I had built it up in my mind to be a sexually charged, insanely intimate caress. I should never have closed my eyes. As soon as I blocked out the sight of her disapproving face, her shapeless jumper, and her eyes avoiding mine, my other senses had taken over and just ran with it. And ran and ran.

The tantalising pull of her jumper for those few seconds, revealed what looked like a damn fine figure hidden beneath it. Hidden from me, damn it. And her hand. After she had pinned the material, her hand had only been an inch above the button of my jeans. And it rested there, didn't it? Or did it? I was obviously even more desperate for some affection than I had realised if I was turning an innocent costume fitting into an electrically charged sexual encounter. God, I was pathetic. But how much was real?

_There was something between us all right, and it was either lust or hatred._

_Nice one, Masen, you can't even tell when you're into a woman anymore._

_Okay then, it was lust _and_ hatred. Better?_

_Hell no. One or the other, man._

_I just don't know any more._

"You all right there, Edward?" Pete asked, concern in his voice as I groaned out loud.

_This is what she does to me. It's crazy._

The warm burning feeling on my skin was back. Glancing down the table again, I caught her eyes for a moment. Watching me. Watching me with disappointed disapproval. God, she was so frustrating. I really, really hated how she looked at me. I didn't know which was worse, having her look at me that way or not knowing why she was doing it or why it bothered me so much.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Pete. Long day, you know."

Wal chuckled darkly and then said, "You should have had a rest over the last few days. We're going to work you hard for the rest of the week!"

I grinned back at him. I loved my job, I really did, and hard work was just what I needed to get my mind off the irritating and yet alluring Ms Swan. "Don't worry, Pete. I know I'm back under the whip, and don't try and pretend you don't love being able to boss people around."

"Me, Edward? Don't know what you're talking about. I leave all that up to Jason here." He grinned back, reaching around behind me and slapping Jason on the shoulder with his big hand, catching him unawares.

I felt the strain ease out of me as we bantered some more. It was good to be working with such a dedicated and committed crew. We worked well together; I made a mental note to let my agent know I'd be interested in Jason and Pete's future projects, too. Feeling more relaxed by the minute, I joined in with the good natured gossip and tall tales from everyone around me.

It felt good.

It felt warm and friendly and companionly. Nothing like what I felt from... her.

I knew every time her eyes were on me. I knew that's what it was. Even without looking. How crazy is that? Every few minutes I would feel that tingly heat on my skin. If I glanced round and caught her looking, I saw a puzzled expression on her face, which quickly switched to a disapproving one when she saw that I had seen her. She didn't stop looking though. She kept on glaring at me when she thought I wouldn't notice, reprimanding me silently for whatever in hell it was that I had done.

But I found myself watching her when she wasn't looking, too, my head tilted, my brows scrunched up like I always did when I was deep in thought. She didn't look at any one else at the table in the way that she looked at me. Most of the time, she sat slightly slumped in her seat and didn't make eye contact with anyone else. She appeared almost... shy? I snorted to myself. Shy. She had been anything but earlier on with me. Cold? Yes. Disapproving? Yes. But shy? No way. I hated how she reacted to me. It irritated the hell out of me.

It made me angry.

It made me sad.

I'd felt attraction for a woman before, of course I had. The sight of a beautiful, slim, petite woman had been enough to make me drool at times. And there was nothing on earth I loved more than a woman who smiled into my eyes. Not just a fake, shallow smile, but one from the soul.

I'd felt dislike and irritation for people before, too, either an instinctive knowledge that the other person and I shared no values or beliefs and we would not be compatible, or a gradual discovery of hidden character traits that I could not share or enjoy. But never had I felt attraction and dislike at the same time for the same person. It was exhausting, it was confusing, and it was not something I wanted to deal with now. Hell, keeping as far away as possible from her was rapidly becoming my number one priority. I'd never be able to concentrate on work otherwise.

But the memory of that brief smile I had caught the edge of wasn't going to go away.

Damn it.

~~oo0oo~~

I noticed as soon as she started to take off that monstrosity of a jumper. She seemed to be fighting it, like it was a living thing hanging on to her. Her arms were raised as she grappled with the neck, which was clutching at her hair. She wore a flannel shirt underneath; large, loose fitting, black with a white line making a large check pattern, and black buttons down the front. Buttons that strained and pulled at their respective holes as she fought her way out of the jumper_._

_Oh, good God, was that... was that red lace?_

The woman sitting next to her stood up at that point and helped rescue her from the monster's clutches, blocking my view of what I imagined I might have seen. No. Don't even think it.

The kid sitting next to her, however, couldn't keep his eyes off her.

_Filthy bastard, he's not old enough to__even__ be thinking the things that are going through his mind right now._

I narrowed my eyes and gave him a look which he caught from all the way down the table immediately. It seemed to send him the correct message, which was to keep his eyes to himself, as he went bright red and stared at his empty plate from then on. Emerging pink faced and rumpled, Bella Swan looked embarrassed, glanced around the table to see who had witnessed that, and caught me glaring at the kid.

_Shit, she saw that_.

_Hope she doesn't think that I'm interested in her. Just trying to let the kid know to keep his eyes off. Show some respect. Hope she doesn't think I'm laughing at her either._

_God, that was funny as hell though._

_Till the red lace. _

_Will you stop with the red lace? You imagined it._

_Can't believe that's the same woman I met in the dressing room. _

_Look at her, sitting there with messed up hair, blushing pink all over, looking all embarrassed and shit. _

_I'm looking, I'm looking._

_She's acting all sweetness and light, not high tensile steel, all tough and unmalleable._

_Not that I want her to be malleable._

_Humm... malleable..._

_Not that I want to find out or have any interest in her at all._

_Then why the fuck did I just glare at the kid? _

_That red lace looked full and soft. Inviting._

_God, I'm going mad._

_Why the hell would she have such an effect on me?_

"Er... Edward?" I was pulled away from my insanity by a familiar voice calling to me. Shit, it was Jessica. Please don't try and come on to me again. I didn't think I could take any more mind fucking right now. I looked up at her, trying to keep my expression neutral. I'm not sure what expression did end up on my face though, because she flinched slightly when she saw. Great. Now I'm frightening the crew. Just what I need. I was supposed to be able to act.

"I wanted to apologise to you for earlier. I was way out of line," she continued. Her voice held regret, and her face was anxious. "I guess I was excited to actually meet you and couldn't help myself. I promise it won't happen again, I've never done anything like that before. I'm so embarrassed. If you don't feel comfortable working with me, I'll understand..."

Oh, thank God. I was so relieved not to have to deal with any more stress today. "Jessica..."I began, a reassuring expression settling on my face without any effort at all.

"...and I'll explain that it was my fault and that you were not involved at all. Well, you were involved of course, but what I meant was..."

"Jessica..."

"...that I started it, and you were very decent about it..."

"...Jessica. It's fine. Just drop it. It's okay." I'd had to raise my voice slightly, which drew attention, but all credit to her, she didn't flinch. She was apologising right out in public, which was brave of her. "Apparently I have that effect on people," I continued with a quiet, deprecating laugh.

"Oh!" She looked surprised for a moment.

_Sorry, Jessica, you're not the first woman who's thrown herself at me._

"Well. That's okay then. Er...sorry again." She ducked her head and tried to look demure, but hadn't a hope in hell of pulling it off. I laughed at her attempt, and she joined in, blushing for real now. "Oh, shut up," she mumbled, ducking her head even lower and fiddling with her cutlery. "I bet women throw themselves at you all the time."

_You have no idea._

"If it's any consolation, Jessica, you were one of the best," I whispered, giving her The Look, enjoying teasing her now that things weren't awkward.

She gaped at me wide-eyed for a moment before laughing again, looking mollified if still embarrassed. "Well, that's all right then," she continued, getting back some of her natural confidence. "At least if I make an idiot of myself, I'm good at it." We ate the rest of the meal companionably, though she still looked embarrassed occasionally.

~~oo0oo~~

"We have a brief meeting now with Bella Swan, who's running wardrobe for us this week. You've met her, right? What did you think of her?" Jason asked me as we finished our coffee, the table starting to slowly empty around us.

What did I think of her? Now there's a question.

"Ed? You met her, right?" Jason pressed, glancing curiously at me.

"Yeah. No problems," I replied, more than somewhat distracted. I followed Jason's gaze as he looked down the table expectantly at Ms Swan. "Who else is in wardrobe this week, Jason?" I had a bad feeling about this.

"Hum?" Jason was always about three steps ahead of what he was actually doing, always seeming to be waiting for everyone to catch up with him. "There's no one else. We're trying to keep this all as small a crew as possible since it's just you, so we just have Bella. She should do fine. She's highly recommended. A bit quiet, Maggie said, but very competent." His shrewd eyes locked onto mine. "Is that going to be a problem with the type of scenes we have coming up? I know you signed on to do nude scenes initially, but with them getting cut, have you got concerns about doing them now?"

"No, no, it's no problem. I've not done nude scenes before, as you know. I'm a bit nervous, to be honest, but I'm going to tackle them just as I would any other. And no. I don't have a problem with Ms Swan," I spoke firmly.

_Like hell I don't._

_Bugger, these four days are going to be hard._

_Just act like the professional you are; you can work with her._

_Yeah, have to it seems._

Jason didn't look convinced. "If there is a problem, it's a bit short notice to make crew changes now, but if there's anyone you want to have on set with you to help you feel more comfortable, just let Jessica know, and she'll arrange it." He looked questioningly at me. "Girlfriend perhaps, friend… mum?"

"Christ, no!"

He grinned at my knee jerk reaction to having my mum see me parade around naked.

"Thanks for that visual, Jason." I said, glaring at him. "I'll never have sex again now without looking over my shoulder to see if my mum is in the room." Jason and Pete both chuckled evilly, and I wondered if I was now scarred for life. "I'll be fine with Ms Swan. Don't worry about it."

"Why do you call her 'Ms Swan' all the time?" Pete enquired as we all looked down the table towards where she was now sitting alone, apart from Alistair, who seemed to be engrossed in tomorrow's call sheets. She looked terrified.

"I dunno. Just feels right," I mumbled half to myself, moving my eyes back to study the pattern of the wood-grain in the table in front of me. No way was I going into it all with these two. With anyone. I turned my head again, frowned down the table at her, scrunching my brows up as I thought. She was behaving so differently than she had with me before.

Abruptly, as though coming to a decision, she stood and walked down to our end of the table. She held her head high and her back straight. No sign of the frightened rabbit of moments ago.

And then she smiled.

It was a slightly tight, polite smile, but the first one I had seen from her head-on. My breath stopped. I mean, I quite literally stopped breathing. I mean, if someone had told me that humans were actually meant to suck oxygen into their bodies, I wouldn't have had a clue what they were talking about. She just took my breath away.

_Oh, shit._

"Mr Scott, Mr Grint, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Bella Swan, your wardrobe manager for this shoot." She held out her hand, which had felt so soft and warm, to Jason and then to Pete, ignoring me in between them. I felt the men on either side of me straighten up a bit, take a bit more notice of her. I had to admit, her confident manner was a sharp contrast to what we had been seeing all evening so far. It was exciting, arousing. In my peripheral vision, I saw Alistair grin to himself, his eyes not leaving the pages he was perusing.

She turned and shook hands with Mike, too, who smiled up at her and said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Bella," before surreptitiously wiggling his brows at me and winking. What the hell? He was old enough to be her Father. I scowled back at him, which only made him grin.

"I'd like to briefly discuss the costume for the scenes we're filming this week if you have time now?" Her voice was steady and melodious. Not too high pitched, soothing yet strong.

_Christ, I'm assessing her voice?_

My eyes strayed to the buttons of her shirt. I couldn't help it; a) I'm a guy, and b) I'm inquisitive. The collar and the top two buttons of her thick shirt were unbuttoned, but she was standing up straight so, from where I was sitting, I could see hardly any skin at all. Perhaps if she dropped something on the ground, I mused, she would bend down to pick it up, and then I could see if that red lace was real or imagined. I glanced down at the table top between us, searching with my eyes. Was there something here I could accidently push off onto the floor on her side? A pen or something? Maybe a spoon?

I was pulled out of my insanely inappropriate school-boy-plotting by the sound of Harry snickering. His eyes darted our way quickly before locking back onto the pages spread on the table in front of him.

_God damn it, I've never thought stuff like that before, even when I _was_ a schoolboy. Get a grip, man._

I shook my head, trying not to look like I was having inappropriate ideas, and concentrated on the conversation around me.

"... I wanted to discuss some small changes I'd like to make," she finished her sentence.

Changes? What had I missed? What had she just been saying?

"Changes. Well, yes, if you think they are necessary." Jason was not the kind of director who liked any deviation from what was planned and scripted. He spent a long time and a lot of effort in pre-production so that changes wouldn't need to be made. Ms Swan was in for trouble if she thought she could change anything now.

"I have my notes. Shall I fetch them or would you like to come to my office. I can show you the choices I've made." Damn, she was determined. Now that's more like the Ms Swan I knew.

Jason seemed impressed by her spunk, too.

"We'll come to you, shall we?" Mike asked. They all stood and made to follow my Ms Swan out of the kitchen.

My _Ms Swan? _

_Where did _that_ come from?_

Pete raised a brow at me in an "are you coming too?" kind of way, and I shook my head. I was way too mixed up in my head to be adding anything else into the mix, and the way she had interacted with the other men was already enough to confuse me even more. She had been cold and hard with me earlier, shy and embarrassed at the table surrounded by everyone else, and then confident and calm just now. She was an entirely too intriguing woman.

The four of them left the kitchen, headed presumably for the wardrobe room where I had just spent a very uncomfortable hour and a half.

At the far end of the table, Alistair was snickering again, his eyes still fixed to his call sheet, which, frankly, shouldn't have been anywhere near as interesting as he seemed to think it was.

"What?" I snapped at him, irritated.

"Nothing, my boy, just enjoying the show."

I ground my teeth. "There's nothing to enjoy."

"If you say so, if you say so," he replied in a patronising tone, though he had a wicked gleam in his eye. What was it with everyone trying to wind me up today? I decided I was far too tired for any more stress tonight and, since it would be an early start tomorrow, retreat would be the best move.

"I'm going up to bed, Alistair. I'll see you tomorrow," I muttered as I rose slowly from the table. Weary didn't even begin to describe how I felt.

"See you tomorrow, Edward. It's going to be a fun day." I couldn't see what was going to be quite so much fun about it, unless his call sheet said something different than mine, but I agreed with him tiredly and headed out of the kitchen and down the hallway. I just couldn't wait to get into bed and fall asleep and have this longest day of my life end.

~~oo0oo~~

Of course, I couldn't sleep. Bloody typical. Sitting up in my bed, propped up against the headboard, alone at last, and far away from Ms Swan and her disturbing influence, I tried to gather my thoughts and concentrate on work. I was here to do a job, and I needed to study the script, not that there was much dialogue to learn. Tomorrow's scenes were all action shots of Liam running through the grounds and leaping over a wall. Should be pretty easy, and as long as I didn't slip and go arse over heels in front of everyone, it would be fine.

_Hopefully, I'll be wearing trainer. That'll help. And jeans maybe. Something casual and easy to wear, a t-shirt..._

_Bloody T–shirts. Stop _that_ line of thinking. Not going there now._

_Okay. Well, dinner was good. It's a great crew on this project. We all seem to just get each other, and it's good to be back together for a few more days. There are only a few new people on board, like that boy who couldn't keep his eyes off..._

_STOP. Not going there._

_Got to be in wardrobe by six tomorrow..._

_Oh, for Christ's sake. I need a distraction. _

_I'll call Alice._

_Really?_

_Yeah, she's my sister; I can call her if I want to._

_On your own head, be it._

_I'm having an entire conversation with myself. I'm going nuts._

_Going?_

The phone felt comforting in my hand; my tangible touch with sanity. Perhaps I really did need to talk about this.

Alice answered her phone almost as soon as the first ring sounded. "God, Edward, I only saw you a few hours ago. What could you possibly have got up to in that time?" Her voice was teasing, familiar. I expected to feel more comforted than I did though.

"I haven't done anything." I was automatically defensive. How had I forgotten she was also so annoying?

"Well, you're calling me, so I figure you needed something. So spill, what is it?" She sounded expectant, confident that she could fix whatever the problem was. Well, she always had in the past. But this time, I wasn't sure what it was that I actually wanted.

_I just felt like talking_.

"I just felt like talking." It didn't sound any less pathetic out loud.

"Okay... about anything in particular? … Edward, are you all right?" Her voice was softer, concerned. If she was concerned, I must sound bad.

I sighed deeply, "I'm fine, Alice. I shouldn't have called. Sorry." A shower and back to bed would probably be a better idea. I'd get to sleep. Eventually.

But she pulled me up sharply, stating, "Edward Anthony Masen, don't you dare hang up on me now. Talk to me. I'll shut up and listen. Promise."

_Well, there's a first time for everything._

"Well, there's a first time for everything."

_Shit, what is with me? Why can't I keep anything inside tonight?_

"I dunno. Maybe because you need to vent?" It was worse than I thought. Alice's voice was soothing, understanding. "Come on, Baby B, spill."

"Christ, Alice, don't call me that. How many times do I have to ask?" My free hand was in my hair, gripping it fustratedly.

"One more, Edward, one more. Now come on, what's got your knickers in a twist?" Why did I put up with her? Seriously, why?

"There's nothing wrong, Alice. There's just someone here who's got me all mixed up. I don't like not knowing where I stand, you know that, and now, I'm just getting mixed signals or maybe it's just me because the only signals I'm getting are 'piss off,' and that would be fine, but I can't seem to get my brain to stop thinking about her." Bugger. Mistake number one.

"Her."

"Yes, it's a woman, Alice, but don't go reading more into this than there is. She hates me, okay? And I don't like her either. Just one of those instant-mutual-dislike things?"

"Uh-huh."

"Don't 'uh-huh' me, Alice. I said it's nothing."

"Uh-huh."

"Alice, don't make more of it..."

"You know, the last time you had one of those 'instant-mutual-dislike things' was that Helen girl in the fifth year. I seem to remember that you ended up losing your virg..."

"ALICE! Not. Helping. And it was Heather in the fourth year, thanks. And anyway, this is completely different."

"Uh-huh."

"Oh, for Christ's sake, Alice!"

"All right, all right, I'm sorry. Is it going to cause problems for you working? Can the two of you avoid each other or something?" Finally, some rational thought from my sister.

"Not really. She's my dresser, so we're going to be pretty close actually."

"Uh-huh. Sorry. Well, all I can suggest is that you, you know, just get on with it and try and ignore her. It's only four days. How bad can it be?" she rationalised.

And here it comes. "She's so bloody irritating! She treats me like a three-year-old, Alice. She doesn't even look at me except to glare at me, and she has this expression on her face all the time like she's disappointed in me. She makes me feel like I have to try and please her somehow, but that I'll never be able to. And there's this... this thing, this pull in my guts, Alice, I can't describe it. When she touched me, I felt, I dunno, it was like warmth or something. I can't stop looking at her, and she smiles for everyone else, Alice! Everyone but me."

Word vomit. Mistake number two.

"UH-HUH."

"Alice!"

"What's she like?"

"What's she like? Alice, I just told you..."

"No, you told me how she makes you feel, which is pretty interesting by the way. I asked you what she's like." I sighed, gripping my hair even tighter. I'd started this, I'd have to finish it. She was like a terrier and wouldn't let go until she was ready.

"Like? Okay. Well, she's...um... " My words petered out pathetically.

_Nice one, Masen. Just tell her something, anything, and then maybe she'll drop it_.

I took a deep breath. "She has brown hair, long, a bit curly, but only a bit. She had it tied back, but bits of it were, you know, drifting around her neck and down her shoulders when she took her jumper off. And it's not just plain brown either. There's other colours in it, too; dark honey maybe. It looks sort of like a conker, you know, when you first open it, all shiny and swirls of different browns... "

_Shit._

"UH-HUH."

Only one way to save face now. "Alice, If you've got nothing helpful to say, I'm going to go now. I've got an early call tomorrow… got to be in wardrobe for six... "

"Uh-huh."

_I'm going to kill her. Right before I put myself out of my misery._

_I am in so much trouble_.

She laughed. Bloody laughed. "It's pretty clear to me what's going on, Edward, but I'm going to let you work it out for yourself! Pleasant dreams, little brother." I could hear the smirk in her voice.

_Yeah, definitely going to kill her. Next time, I'll call Emmett._

"Good night, Alice."

I would stop thinking about the conflicting, intriguing, infuriating Ms Swan. I would.

And I did. Around two a.m.

My last thought before I finally fell into an exhausted sleep was that these were going to be the longest fucking four days of my life.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Huge thanks to my Beta MyHubbyIsATwilightWidow for all her help, to Tima83 for her help too and to Amy for all her support. Thanks guys!**

* * *

**Taking Care of Baby**

**Edward POV**

.

These early morning calls were a bitch. Wanting to be ready to shoot as the sun comes up? Couldn't they just do that stuff with lights? In the day time, on a warm, dry soundstage? I pulled the quilt tighter round me and buried my head in the pillow, determined to make the most of the precious six minutes before the alarm went off again. _Damn snooze function_.

The bed was warm and comfortable, and I drifted off again, sinking contentedly back into the world of semi-sleep. For five and a half minutes.

"Feeling Good" blared from my phone again, mocking me as I was jerked out of sleep for the second time. Damn, Muse were so loud in the morning.

_Okay, okay, I'm up._

I stretched and yawned and threw back the quilt, swinging my legs around and off the bed quickly before I changed my mind.

_Fuck, it's cold in here._

I rubbed my eyes and shook my head, trying to wake myself up.

_God, I'm tired. I really need more than three hours sleep at night. Really need to get infuriating women off my mind at night, too._

That was why I was so tired; I couldn't get to sleep thinking about Ms Swan for reasons I couldn't even begin to understand.

I wasn't positive, but I was pretty sure I dreamt about her, too. I dreamt I was chasing a witch in a black pointy hat. Every time I caught up with her, she cast a spell on me. I shook my head and sighed. Pretty weird. I shouldn't have gone to the Harry Potter premiere. Alice only insisted I went so she could go with me. She loved Harry Potter. Anyway, whatever the reason, the three hours sleep I had managed obviously hadn't been very restful.

Getting a 5:00 a.m. wakeup call wasn't the worst thing on earth, but it kind of felt like it this morning. I got groggily to my feet, hoping a shower would help me feel a bit more human, and strode as quickly as I could across the room and into the bathroom._ Damn, it's cold_.

But the shower didn't help much. I was still feeling tired and out of sorts as I dressed, skipped shaving as my character needed to look 'scruffy' today, and headed down stairs to the kitchen for breakfast.

I wandered into the kitchen, glancing round fake casually to see who was there already. Who was I kidding? I was looking for Ms Swan. I wasn't sure whether to be pleased or disappointed when she wasn't there. After psyching myself up for the last half an hour, it was a bit of a let down. I wanted to see if there was still that something between us. That pull or whatever the hell it was. I was mildly irritated that she was still consuming my thoughts. I couldn't understand why I was still thinking about her. I couldn't possibly be attracted to her; she had been nothing but cold and indifferent to me, and we had absolutely nothing in common.

There was an impressive choice of breakfast items laid out, but nothing much appealed me, though the coffee was definitely a step in the right direction. I'd been tempted to skip breakfast altogether, and therefore the torture of Ms Swan's presence, but I knew from experience that a hot meal was pretty much essential before going and standing around outside in the cold for hours, which was basically what my job was.

_Stop fucking procrastinating. Man up and go and face her._

Yeah, that was what I was trying to put off doing. Going and facing Ms. Stern Face to get my costume for the day. Pathetic.

Phil, one of the camera operators, walked in then, and we spent ten minutes or so going over the day's scenes together while she told me about the set up for today. My character was going to be running through some woods and across the lawns of the house. For some scenes, Phil was going to be in front of me with her camera set on a quad bike, keeping pace with me as I ran. She would get close up shots, and another camera would get distance shots later. I was pretty sure I was going to be doing a lot of running today.

Phil stepped outside via the old servant's door for a few minutes to survey the sky and check the weather. Since it was still dark, she couldn't see the clouds and came back grumbling that she couldn't tell if the misty rain was going to clear. During her working day, Phil spent as much time watching the clouds and the sun as she did peering through a camera.

Sunrise was due at 6:51, so the call sheet said, and we needed to get a walk through, a safety check, and a rehearsal in before then. I was used to being where I was told and doing what I was told during a shoot. I was just one part of a machine, doing one job, and even on this stripped-bare shoot, there were a lot of other people working to make this film happen. People who were already outside setting up.

Speaking of which, I could put it off no longer, and I left the bright warmth of the kitchen and walked down the gloomy, cold corridor towards Wardrobe, telling myself that perhaps things would be different this morning. I might find that I had imagined the effect she had on me and that she would greet me with a big smile.

But bollocks did she.

She greeted me with the tightest of smiles and didn't meet my eyes again. Damn it. Managing to conveniently forget all the attributes that I had catalogued during dinner the night before, from shiny hair to cute dimples, I walked across the room towards her, convinced that this annoying woman couldn't possibly have any sort of effect on me. It wasn't possible for someone I disliked so much to have any kind of magical pull for me.

But as I looked at her, as I moved towards her, I started to feel that strange faint tugging feeling again. .

What. The. Fuck?

I'd tried to describe the sensation to Alice last night, but she had just gone all quiet, ah ha-ing at me like an idiot. When I could have really done with some female advice, she decides to shut up. She and I were going to have words when this was all over.

"Good morning, Mr. Masen." Her voice was again quiet, soft and attractive, strong and compelling, yet faintly vulnerable. It suited her. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut for a moment. What the hell was I on about? This was Ms Swan, not some normal woman.

"G'morning," I muttered, opening my eyes and taking a deep cleansing breath._ Let's get on with it_. She seemed to get the message as she gestured to the rails of clothes I had changed behind yesterday.

"Your outfit is hanging behind there. Unless you'd rather change upstairs, of course?"

I glanced at her. _Nope, still not looking at me_. This woman really didn't like me.

Fiddling with her fingers in front of her, she continued, "I can bring your costumes to your room from now on if you prefer. I didn't this morning because I had to get the T-shirts ready for you."

"No, here's fine." Once again I found part of myself not wanting to leave her presence, even though the rest of me was screaming at me to bail.

I stepped round behind the rails once again, thinking about how cold it was going to be when I stripped off, and realised that the room was actually quite warm, which was a pleasant surprise; most of the rest of the house was freezing cold. I had certainly taken my kit off in far worse conditions. I checked what was neatly hanging on the hanger in front of me. It was a T-shirt and jeans for me today with trainers, which was good since we were working outside doing the action shots. I changed slowly, automatically, my mind thinking about other things, namely Ms Swan. _Damn it_.

It was several minutes before I realised that she was still waiting for me to finish getting dressed. I had been lost in my thoughts, and they were all of her; the strange juxtaposition of her shy behaviour at dinner, her curt manner with me, and her confident professionalism with Jason. I jerked my thoughts back to the job at hand. Before going out to a shoot, I should have been preparing. I was very conscientious in my work and always gave it one hundred percent of my concentration. I didn't want to be anything less over the next few days just because a witch woman in wardrobe had made me lose my mind. I smirked as I remembered my dream.

She watched me as I stepped back out into the room, her eyes fixed to my chest rather than my own eyes. "Please try and take care of the T-shirts today, Mr. Masen. They have to last two days, and I only have three of them." Her voice was soft as she admonished me.

"The jeans and trainers have doubles, too, but the tops are always more vulnerable," she continued. "You know, accidents during shooting, coffee spills, that kind of thing." She was looking a little anxious as she fiddled with the hem of her shirt. At last, a normal human reaction.

I was well aware that the smallest mark on a costume could cause continuity problems. I'd always done my best to accommodate whatever the wardrobe department had asked me to do, even down to wearing big plastic bibs when I was shooting a period film once, but still, I couldn't help maybe stirring Ms. School Marm up a bit. I really wanted to see the spark that she had shown last night when she was talking to Jason again.

Don't ask me why, it would probably just be directed at me.

"I'll do my best," I teased her cautiously, narrowing my eyes at her. "No promises, mind." Her brow furrowed even deeper at my cavillier attitude to her precious costume, and I chuckled to myself. Perhaps she wasn't as impervious as I thought. "I've not ruined anything for a while now; hope this shoot won't end my run of luck." If she wasn't so irritating and annoying, she'd actually look quite appealing the way she was trying not to look all cross and not succeeding.

I risked tossing a wink at her, letting her know that I was messing with her, and surprisingly was rewarded with a slight blush as she muttered a response. _What do you know?_

"Try," she bit out acidly, and, eyes to the floor, she pulled her disapproving look back into place. _Yeah, definitely appealing in other circumstances. Like, if we didn't hate each other._

Those few minutes together in her room had been energising though somehow, and a couple of hours later, going over and over the first scene of the day didn't seem too bad when I had the memory of her strangely appealing cross expression to think back on. She was definitely fun to mess with. And I hated to admit it, but she was doing a good job out here, too. She'd snapped some pictures of me with a camera to use as reference, and now she stood off camera next to Angela holding the long padded coat that I wore between takes, always ready with it whenever I needed it. It was damn cold out here even though the sun was trying to shine, much to Phil's frustration, and I noticed that Ms Swan folded the coat carefully and held it against her, keeping the warmth inside and preventing the damp from getting to it. I wondered if that was coincidence, but I conceded that she'd probably been doing this job for a while and just knew how to look after her actors.

Her actors. Not a chance. But damn, even though she irritated the hell out of me and she treated me like a three year old with the plague, I couldn't help the feeling of being pulled towards her and wanting to see her nose crinkle up with annoyance when I threatened her precious T-shirts.

**~~oo0oo~~**

Everyone was happy with the dawn takes, luckily, or we might have been back out here again tomorrow morning. We were moving to film more complicated shots of me running between the trees next, and Alec, the safety guy, was walking me through the course that I would be taking through the woods. The light still wasn't very good, and Alec had been round the course yesterday, removing anything I might trip over and marking obstacles with yellow sticky tape on my approach side that the camera wouldn't pick up. I was hugging a polystyrene cup of coffee to me, enjoying its warmth as we walked the course together, discussing the various hazards and how to avoid them. The last thing anyone wanted, me most of all, to be honest, was for me to get poked in the eye with a branch or trip over and break a leg or something.

Alec was pointing out an area of ground he had marked to be avoided when it happened. He couldn't mark it with tape because it would be in the shot, but had put a warning mark just before it for me. It was a patch of gravel on a slope, one that I would almost certainly slip on, he said, if I tried to run across it at speed. It was pretty dark still, and I couldn't really see what he was showing me.

And I was a guy. I just had to try and prove him wrong. It was in my genes.

"What? This gravel here, Alec?" I asked, walking towards it. "It looks okay to me. A bit loose, but the slope isn't too bad..." Er, yes, it was. My foot slipped under me just a bit. Just enough to give me a jolt. Just enough to make me jerk my hand up reflexively. The hand that was holding a cup of coffee in it. I tried to save it almost instantly, but it was already too late. Lukewarm coffee sloshed over the sides of the cup, hitting me in the chest, soaking my T-shirt.

Well, shit.

I really shouldn't have teased her earlier. Ms Swan was never going to believe that this was an accident.

.

**~~ooOoo~~**

.

**Bella POV**

.

"_Stay with me, Bella. Be mine." His husky voice embraces me; his nimble fingers caress my skin. Stay with me...with me..._

What was that noise? It was interrupting my dream.

_... Soft caresses against my hips, my sides, whispered words of love and adoration..._

Noooo!

It was my alarm. Flailing a hand out randomly, I groped the side table for my phone, keeping my eyes determinedly shut.

_It's got to be one of these buttons._

_Damn it, keypad lock._

_Yes, got it!_

I pulled the quilt tighter round me and buried my head in the pillow, hanging onto the dream for as long as possible.

The bed was deliciously warm and comfortable in the way that a bed only is when it was time for you to get out of it. I drifted off again, sinking contentedly back into the world of semi-sleep and my dream man.

'What I've Done' blared from my phone again, mocking me as I jerked out of sleep for the second time. Damn, Linkin Park were so loud in the morning.

_Okay, okay, I'm up._

I stretched and yawned and inched back the quilt, swinging my legs tentatively around and off the bed.

_Oh! It's cold in here._

I rubbed my eyes and ran my hands through my hair, trying to wake myself up. God, I was tired. I really needed more than three hours sleep at night.

I sighed, wishing I could sink back into that dream. Bad idea. It was not the first night I had dreamt of Edward Masen (by a long shot), but it was the first night I had dreamt of someone I was working with the next day. So not going to help.

I stretched and yawned again.

Getting up at 5:00 a.m. was the worst thing in the world. How did people do this? I had only gone to bed at 2:00.

I'd spent the hours between my meeting with Jason and finally getting to bed preparing T-shirts for Edward to wear in his outdoor action shots. Having fitted one to him, I knew what adjustments needed to be made, so I got on with it. I took three brand new T-shirts completely apart and remade them in the correct size. Then I washed them and tumble dried them together with some random objects that I found in the kitchen so that they looked worn and had some character to them. The last thing we wanted was for them to look brand new and fresh-out-of-the-packet. Edwards's character tomorrow was supposed to look 'rumpled.' By the time I had done all that, it had been 2:00 a.m., and I was knackered.

Stretching my arms and torso as high as I could, I tried to give my tired muscles the hint that it was time to start moving and reached to the end of the bed for my dressing gown.

I hurriedly pulled it on, shoved my feet in my boots since they were all I had brought with me, and hurried out of my room and down the two flights of stairs to turn the heater in the dressing room up as high as it would go. I really missed my fluffy slippers. _Should have brought them with me._

Last night, I had pulled the heavy velvet curtains across the window in the wardrobe room to help conserve heat and had set the heater to a low temperature to keep the chill off. So shutting the door behind me now, I hoped that the room would be pretty warm by the time 6:00 a.m. came round. Clomping back up the stairs, I had to admit I felt pretty silly wandering around this grand house in a cerise pink, full length, fluffy, fleece dressing gown and black leather boots.

_Better than fluffy slippers._

_Everyone else will be in their rooms, everyone else will be in their rooms..._

"Morning, Bella. You look rosy this morning I must say!" A cheerful voice called to me. I stopped half way up the flight of stairs.

_Oh, God, shoot me now._

"Morning, Alistair. You're up early," I stammered in reply, turning to look back down the stairs at him. How embarrassing. To make matters worse, he was fully dressed, looking impeccably neat and tidy even at this ungodly hour.

"Oh, I've never needed much sleep, love, prefer to be up and busy you know. You, too? Or did something keep you awake all night?" His eyes twinkled mischievously.

"I just came down to turn the heater up," I replied defensively, tugging my dressing gown tighter around me. "This house is freezing." Somehow though, I didn't mind his teasing; he had a rather avuncular manner, which I liked.

"Very true. Well, if there's nothing you want to tell me..." he winked "...I'll let you get dressed. Spitting with rain outside by the way, but the forecast says it will stop soon and the sun will come out later."

Murmuring my thanks for the update, I rushed up the stairs, cursing the weather. An outdoor shoot in the rain would be a horrible start to the week. With visions of Edward slipping and getting grass stains on his jeans, I rushed through my shower and dressing. I was tempted to skip breakfast in order to avoid having to painfully stumble through any conversations with anyone, but decided that some hot food would be a good idea before venturing out into the cold.

I could hear voices as I approached the kitchen, not quite as loud and exuberant as last night, understandably, but definitely a group of people. My steps slowed, and I hesitated in the shadows outside the spill of light from the kitchen doorway.

Looking into the brightly lit room, I saw Edward reaching forward to gather some breakfast from the selection laid out on a large table.

_Definitely not going in there now._

He was dressed in a long sleeved cotton shirt opened over a baggy T-shirt and the jeans he had been wearing last night.

He looked damn good. Always did. Had he combed his hair at all? It didn't look like it. Since he was going to have Angela sort it out for him and he was supposed to look rumpled today, there probably wasn't much point. His face had slightly more scruff than yesterday, again perfect for his character. Just perfect, really. I tried not to notice the way his muscles flexed as he reached across the table. Tried.

There were dark smudges under his eyes, I realised. Had he already been through hair and makeup? But no, he wouldn't do that before breakfast. He looked tired. Why did he look so tired? An answer sprang to mind. Did Jessica keep him awake all night? Feeling slightly sick, I decided to get some breakfast later and headed for wardrobe to get ready for Edward's arrival.

I should have offered to have his costume ready for him in his room last night, but obviously it wasn't ready then, and there was no way I was going to get up even earlier this morning, so he would just have to come and collect it himself. I opened the curtains, although it was still pitch dark outside, and thought about how I should handle things today.

I absolutely had to remember that he was Edward Masen – Film Star, not Edward Masen – My Dream Man. He was nothing like I would wish him to be, and we had nothing in common at all. I had to be professional.

**~~oo0oo~~**

.

I felt him before I heard him. Just, I don't know, felt him.

_How does he do that?_

I took a deep breath and turned around towards him.

Scruffy beard, tired eyes, sex hair - yes, a recipe for a heart attack.

_Lucky Jessica._

I shifted my eyes quickly to his right. I did not want to see what a night in his bed would look like in the morning. So gorgeous.

_Remember, don't let him get to you._

I managed a small smile at him as he approached and probably a good morning, too. I wasn't too sure. It was getting harder and harder to remember why I couldn't let him get to me.

_You've got work to do. Get on with it._

I pointed out the rails of clothing to Edward once again and said in a rather strained voice, "Your outfit is hanging behind there. Unless you'd rather change upstairs, of course?"

He didn't answer. Damn, I really didn't want to see his eyes close up. I might just melt right now. Hurriedly, I offered to take his costumes to his room from now on, and I was stupidly relieved when he replied, "No, here's fine."

I didn't want him near me, yet I didn't want him away from me either. What a mixed up situation. He turned away from me and strode towards the changing area, and I greedily watched his retreating back. So perfect. I watched as he disappeared from my sight, listening to the gentle rustling sounds as he moved around.

It was then I discovered I had an excellent imagination. I guess a bit like a blind person developing their other senses? Not being able to see him, I listened to all the soft sounds, interpreted them, and created myself a mental picture.

_Oh, yes._

I heard a small, barely audible grunt of surprise? Followed by the soft brushing sounds of fabric being slid over fabric. I took a step nearer and saw his hands appear briefly over the top rail of the makeshift wall. His shirt and T-shirt were off now. I licked my lips. _Does that mean he's bare chested now?_ I heard the sound of the hanger knocking against the wooden panelling of the wall, the sounds of movements – brushing, rubbing, breathing. The clothing hanging between us swayed slightly as he knocked it. With his elbow maybe?

The unmistakeable sound of Edward stepping out of his shoes followed. I mentally pictured him, bending down and placing them under the chair, then straightening. What next? _What comes next?_

Zzzzip.

_Bloody hell..._

If the slipping free sound of him taking his shoes off was unmistakeable, then the sound of him lowering the fly on his jeans was a universal certainty. I gulped and unconsciously stepped a little closer still, holding my breath so I didn't miss the tiniest sound. This was so much worse than yesterday.

I could hear the sound of heavy denim being pushed down toned, muscular thighs. I imagined I could even hear the scraping of coarse hairs as strong hands swept across them. He stepped out of the jeans with one leg, then a little shake of his second leg to free the jeans from his foot. There was the sound of air being expelled from his lungs as he bent to pick them up, the sound of fabric being folded, and a soft curse as loose change clattered onto the hard wood floor. Then I heard the scrape of metal on wood as he picked it up again. He would be bending over to pick that up. Bending over while only wearing his boxer briefs.

_Oh, God!_

I could imagine him now, straightening up as he reached for the jeans he was changing into, very similar to his own, a little less worn, a little lower on the waist, but a beautiful fit. I should have known, I checked him out yesterday… er, I mean, I checked yesterday. He shook the jeans out, the sound of heavy fabric snapping in the air from behind the makeshift wall, and then he stepped in, one leg, then the other. Tough denim over course hair as he raised them up his legs, the constant sound of friction against skin. Lots of skin. Naked skin. I wondered if he dressed left leg first or right. Most people have a natural preference. I imagined that he was a right leg first man. Does he need to adjust himself? Did his boxer briefs keep him comfortably in place?

_Jesus, what a thought_.

Zzzzip.

Those little teeth sliding slowly together and connecting with each other was a spine tingling sound.

I was almost panting by the time he pulled the zip up. It was pure foreplay.

The sound of the wooden chair creaking as he sat to change his socks and to put on the trainers was anticlimactic compared to what had gone before. A soft wind down. Then there was silence. What was he doing? The not knowing was worse.

I was dying to step closer to get a clue, to wrench the hangers apart and fling open the makeshift wall and feast my eyes on him. No, wait. I should have done that a minute ago, not now. A minute ago when he was bending over to pick the change up. Oh, yes. Then.

_Jeeze, Bella, unprofessional or what?_

It was shocking how I was behaving.

_Yes, but it's _Edward Masen_._

_Who probably slept with Jessica last night._

_Damn._

Snapping myself out of a fantasy-induced haze, I stepped away as quietly as I could, not wanting him to know how close I was standing, and hurried over to the table where his coat was lying.

_Come on, Bella, do your job, can't you?_

_I'll try._

He re-entered the room, and I couldn't help a swell of pride when I saw how well the T-shirt fitted him. It just hit the top of his low slung jeans and stretched across his chest just enough to show some muscle definition, but not so much he looked like a beach body-builder. The sleeves were sitting right around his bicep, not stretching, but not baggy either, just cherishing the tone of his arm.

So good.

He was automatically rolling the hem of a sleeve up as he walked towards me. I smirked to myself. I'd known he'd do that. Almost every picture of him out there showed him with rolled up sleeves. Men. Creatures of habit. I'd allowed some extra length in the sleeve for it. The start of the swell of his bicep was now just visible below the fabric. _Damn, I'm good._ I was getting rather fond of that shirt. I'd hate to see anything happen to it.

"Please try and take care of the T-shirts today, Mr Masen. They have to last two days, and I only have three of them." I wanted to clear my throat. I felt all choked up. My baby, being worn by Edward Masen. When all this was over, I was taking that T-shirt home. "The jeans and trainers have doubles, too," I hastily added, not wanting to seem obsessed with the one item, even though I was. "But the tops are always more vulnerable. You know, accidents during shooting, coffee spills, that kind of thing." I rushed on. God, I was making an idiot of myself, but I wanted to remember him looking this good for a long time.

"I'll do my best." His voice was mocking, taunting. He'd better damn well appreciate the effort I put in. I was up until 2:00, damn it. But then, why should he have cared?

My baby was not in safe hands.

"I've not ruined anything for a while now; hope this shoot won't end my run of luck." He continued, not bothering to hide the taunting in his voice. And then he winked at me. Winked. Flustered, I felt myself blush before repressing the weakness. How dare he threaten my baby? How dare he be so cavalier about his costume? What a bastard. We weren't all highly paid actors; some of us worked for a living. Until 2:00.

"Try," I bit out rudely. Oh, God, I was going to get sacked from this job for sure. Why couldn't I keep my mouth shut around him?

He smiled benignly at me, a glint in his eye that I couldn't identify, and strode from the room to go next door to have his hair and makeup sorted. With a sense of déjà vu, I watched as he strode away on his gorgeous long legs through the door. I leaned to the side to see through the doorway better and admired the view while I had the chance. Gorgeous.

.

**~~oo0oo~~**

.

"Blimey, I'm cold." Angela's teeth were chattering as she spoke. "I'm going to go and stand in that bit of sun for a while." She gestured to a patch of weak early morning brightness, twenty or so meters to our left. "Are you coming?"

I looked critically at the position of the sunny patch. Would I still be able to see Edward from there? My interest was purely professional, of course; I needed to see when he finished this scene so I could take him his coat.

_...Right..._

My cold feet were the deciding factor. "Okay, let's go." We moved over to the sun and stood basking in its weak warmth for a few minutes, enjoying the autumn brightness. I liked Angela; she didn't chatter, didn't pry, and was efficient and helpful. Well, they were qualities that I admired anyway. However, she had been very keen to tell me how she had run her fingers through Edwards's hair this morning while styling it into the tousled mane it was currently. The man just had an effect on everyone. I wasn't sure I wanted to hear about how soft the strands of hair were or how lovely it smelt. It was oddly disturbing.

Over to our right, Jason called, "Cut!" and everyone hurried forwards to tweak, reposition, discuss, and evaluate. Angela and I included ourselves in the mini stampede and headed over to where Edward was standing.

He had been running back and forth for over an hour, putting a lot of effort into the bursts of speed required for the shot before jogging back to his first position to do it over again. And again. I was exhausted just watching him.

As we approached, I assessed Edward professionally for a few moments, looking for sweat stains, dirt, marks, anything that could cause continuity problems. So far, he seemed to be doing well; perhaps I was a bit hasty to judge him.

I silently handed him his coat and waited while Angela fussed with his hair for a few moments. One of the riggers called to him, gesturing towards the hot drinks that catering had brought out, and Edward moved over to join him in the queue for sustenance. Angela and I followed, enjoying the quiet pace of things, knowing full well that anything could happen at any time and we would be rushing around like mad things. Collecting our hot drinks, we made our way back over to 'our' patch of sun and stood around, busily waiting and doing nothing. It was surprisingly tiring.

I could see Edward walking through the trees with a short man in a bright red jacket. The two of them flashed in between the trees as they walked, like a red coated version of Morse code between ships.

"Who's that?" I asked Angela, my curiosity overcoming my enjoyment of the silence. "The guy in the red coat with Edward?"

"That's Alec," she replied immediately. I knew she would know. Angela knew everyone. "He's the safety guy. I expect they are looking for rabbit holes and barbed wire!" She was joking; we knew it would have been taken care of already, but I felt a clutching in my stomach at the thought.

Sighing, I turned away from one brightness in the world and turned my face up towards the weak warmth of the other. I couldn't watch Edward all day. It wasn't necessary. How much trouble could he get into, after all?

I was pulled from my peaceful musings by the feel of Edward approaching.

"Er…" The throat clearing was definitely his. He was close. I turned around and found myself inches away from a broad, T-shirt covered, chest. A T-shirt covered chest with a large, wet, coffee coloured stain soaking across the centre of it.

I lifted my eyes to his, aghast at what I was seeing.

My baby.

He seemed to find my shock even more amusing. "Um… I sort of slipped…"

_He's desecrated my baby with coffee. _

_He's messing with me._

_He did this on purpose._

_How dare he!_

I was furious. Unable to form a coherent sentence, I pointed back towards the house and stammered, "House… change… now..." And meekly, he obeyed, but not before taking in my furious look and smirking.

What a bastard! Three and a half days to go. He was never going to survive it. I'd make sure of that.

.

* * *

**I really enjoyed writing this chapter! Let me know what you thought of it.**


	8. Chapter 8

Huge thanks to my Beta MyHubbyIsATwilightWidow for putting up with my appalling punctuation, to ChloeCougar for pre-reading and keeping me on track,

to Amy for being wonderfully supportive. Thanks guys!

* * *

**Distance**

**Edward POV**

After the spilt coffee debacle, the rest of the morning dragged on towards lunch. The only thing I can say about it? It didn't rain. Apart from that, it was more running from here to there and then doing it again. And again.

After a few hours, we took a break for coffee again, thank God, because although the sun had come up on cue and was trying to shine, it only felt warmer if you stood right in its weak light, and I'd spent the last two hours in the shade. I grabbed a coffee - carefully - and headed over to a struggling patch of brightness and attempted to soak up the slight warmth. Ms. Swan followed me, offering me the long coat silently, not taking her eyes off my coffee cup. I took the coat gratefully and pulled it on, trying not to spill the coffee; although her anxious expression as she watched made me take my time over it some more. I was beginning to enjoy winding her up.

Going and changing into a fresh t-shirt earlier had been an interesting experience. She had stalked along next to me on the way to the house in complete silence, and, quite frankly, I hadn't been sure whether to laugh again or be scared. She looked furious. I decided that saying nothing at all was probably the best policy and matched her silence; although I couldn't help sneaking little looks at her flushed face every now and again. Was it possible for someone to be scary _and_ cute?

I switched t-shirts in the welcome warmth of the dressing room, laughing to myself as she almost snatched the coffee stained one from my hands and rushed out of the room with it, presumably to wash it or something. You'd think it was her first born child the way she doted over it. The one I was wearing now was exactly the same. It'd be fine.

So here we stood together a few hours later, silently watching the activity around us as lights and reflectors were rigged, sound booms were positioned, cameras were readied, and catering doled out gallons of hot drinks. We leaned back against a waist-high, crumbling stone wall, Ms. Swan stretching her legs out in front of her and raising her face to the weak sunlight. Her eyes were closed. She had long curved eyelashes resting on faintly flushed cheeks, and I could clearly see that little freckle high up on her cheek now. I almost wanted to reach over and touch it. The silence stretching between us wasn't exactly comfortable, but it wasn't full of tension either. It felt kind of like a truce.

I was feeling pretty good actually. The morning's exercise of running back and forth through the woods had woken me up, and I was now appreciative of the rest. I usually made sure I worked out at least three times a week, but the shooting schedule had been brutal over the last month, and I hadn't had as much time as I would have liked. The slight burn after the running this morning made me realise this, and I made a mental note to check out the resort gym when I finally made it to my holiday. I couldn't wait. Drinks with little umbrellas in were waiting for me.

_I wonder what Ms. Swan would look like in a bikini?_

_Don't ruin this, man. This is good. We are getting along like work colleagues should. No animosity. It's almost relaxing, standing here with her. In fact, maybe she's up for some actual conversation. I wonder what... _

"How are your feet?" she asked me suddenly, interrupting my thoughts. I glanced around at her. She was still leaning back against the wall, eyes closed, face raised to the sun. _My feet? Why the hell does she want to know about my feet? _I frowned at her, perplexed.

"You've not worn those trainers before. I was worried that they might be rubbing you with all that running they have you doing." She spoke with complete clinical professionalism as she turned her head towards me and steadfastly looked over my right shoulder. Her hands, though, were now in front of her, twisting and writhing together like nervous kittens. I eyed her hands speculatively. Her voice sounded so sure, but she looked nervous.

"Umm...yeah, they're fine; a little bit sore on the one heel, but not too bad." I was taken off guard by her question. She cared if I had sore feet?

_She's just doing her job, numbskull._

_Yeah, but she cared enough to ask._

"Do you want me to take a look for you?" she asked quietly, her hesitant gaze shifting to the front of my thickly padded coat, her hands never ceasing their nervous movements. "Or I can fetch the First Aider, and he can check for you," she finished with a rush.

I didn't want anyone else intruding on this moment.

I had just had a highly inappropriate vision of Ms. Swan on her knees in front of me, tenderly holding my bare foot in her hands as she massaged the ball of my foot. I had once had an incredibly erotic foot massage, and I couldn't get that memory out of my insane mind as I imagined Ms. Swan's hands on the bare skin of my foot. I almost groaned aloud at the thoughts assaulting me.

"Um... it's okay, I'm sure it's fine." Bugger. I sounded like a nervous teenager faced with the prospect of his first kiss. Did I want it or didn't I? I wanted it, but what if I did something stupid and messed things up? I wanted Ms. Swan's hand on my foot so badly, but for all the wrong reasons. I shouldn't be thinking things like this about someone I was working with. "But perhaps we'd better check." _Shit. I've lost my mind. I can't believe I just said that. _

Beside me, she straightened up; surprised, it seemed, at my answer. "Okay. Sit on the wall and take your shoe off," she instructed firmly as she moved round to stand in front of me. I did as she directed - of course, I did - and hitched my weight onto my hands, pulling myself up to sit on top of the crumbling stone wall, my feet swinging above the ground. I clenched my hands into the cold hard stone for a moment, feeling the grits and the grains stab my hands.

_Concentrate. She's doing this as part of her job. Don't even think about making any more out of it._

_Bare hands... bare feet... touching..._

_Don't think about it._

Trying not to look at her and make myself lose my balance altogether, I reached down with one hand and untied the lace on my left trainer. I pulled it off, wincing slightly as I realised that, yes, it was actually a bit sore on the heel. I lurched forward a bit on the uneven stones on the top of the wall as I pulled the shoe off and my centre of gravity shifted.

She put her hand on my knee to steady me.

_Jesus fucking Christ._

I was frozen in place. The heat, the pull, the connection, whatever the hell it was that I had felt between us in that dressing room yesterday was back. And it was trying to kill me. Heat - thrilling, intimate, fucking sexy as hell heat - was smoothing its way up from my knee to my thigh. I could feel it as though it were an actual physical thing. I even glanced at my leg to confirm that she hadn't just rubbed hot liquid heat all the way up my thigh, but her pale hand was still pressing lightly, non-sexually on my knee. I could hear my heart pick up speed. It was pounding so loudly in my ears.

Staring desperately back at the ground around us, I grabbed the top of the wall firmly with my right hand for balance while I found the top of my sock with the other.

She reached down to help. Our fingers touched, my long fingers, cold from the surrounding air, tangling momentarily with her shorter warm ones, sparking the heat to flow between us again as, together, we peeled the sock excruciatingly slowly down my ankle.

It was the sexiest fucking thing I'd ever experienced.

I gritted my teeth and screwed my eyes tightly shut, trying desperately not to let thoughts of sex enter my brain. Too late.

Her gentle, warm fingers gripped my sock. I felt the light stroke of her fingers with my whole body as they brushed unhurriedly down my own, felt with every nerve that I possessed the caress of the soft pads of her fingertips and the graze of her round nails as they slipped inside the fabric of the sock. I held my breath as her touch skimmed lightly over the bare skin of my ankle, down and around to the soft, vulnerable arch of my foot as the sock was lowered. The cool breath of autumn breeze teased my unaccustomed flesh as more of it was slowly revealed to the air, causing shivers to chase up my spine. As the sensitive skin on the underside of my foot was exposed to the kiss of the air, to the stroke of her hand, I squeezed my eyes shut tighter still, willing my body to not respond and betray how this simple act was affecting me. The crest of fulfilment as the sock was pulled from my toes and, finally, thankfully away made me clench my fists and crush my teeth together in the effort it took not to groan out loud. I simultaneously wanted the experience to never end and was basking in the relief that it had.

I felt like I should have a cigarette.

_Fuck me!_

_I've turned into a foot fetishist. _

_What is this woman doing to me?_

I tried to catch my breath after whatever it was I had just experienced. Drawing in deep but hopefully unobtrusive lungfuls of oxygen and trying not to look like a school boy after his first experience with a girl, I clung to the top of the wall, the pain in my palm helping me to keep things in perspective.

_It was just a sock, just a sock, man. _

I sat up straighter, hoping the whole breathing thing might help. Sitting on the wall, I was higher up than she was, and as I straightened up and opened my eyes at last, I found that I was gazing straight down at her chest as she bent over my knee. I could faintly smell her fragrance; citrusy with a hint of something floral. I could see right down between all the layers of clothing she was wearing, and, yes, I saw red lace. Red lace and just a tantalising glimpse of firm rounded flesh contained within it.

I gulped. Well honestly, what the hell else was I supposed to do?

The feeling of the cool air on my bare foot and her hot hand on my knee as she steadied me and prevented me from losing my balance on the wall…I got a schoolboy-worthy eyeful of beautiful, creamy flesh teamed up against me. I shifted my position on the top of the wall, suddenly finding my jeans uncomfortably tight.

_Why her? Why now? _

Her head ducked some more, blocking my view, which was probably just as well since I certainly couldn't tear my eyes away from it. I sat back up straight, studying the top of her head with an intense concentration that I never knew I had.

_Her hair really was the colour of conkers; I was right when I told Alice that..._

_Stop thinking about her, you git. You _work_ with her._

_Think of something else, anything else._

_This wall is really uncomfortable to sit on._

_Must remember to ask Alice to renew my gym membership._

_It's Mum's birthday soon. I'll get her that necklace from..._

Diversionary tactics went entirely out of my mind when she shifted her grip on my foot and sank to her knees in front of me.

_Fuck me!_

_It's my dream come true._

_Shut up and act like a professional. _

Too bloody late. My dick that that been hovering on standby ever since she had told me to take my shoe off was now clamouring for attention and straining against the zip of my jeans. Thank God I was wearing the coat because he would be right in her face otherwise.

_Jesus Christ, don't think things like that._

Her deliciously hot hand gripped my foot firmly yet reverently as she twisted it to the side to take a look at the back of my ankle. I gripped onto the top of the wall for dear life with both hands now to keep my balance and prayed, actually prayed, that the coat wouldn't fall open revealing, well, revealing pretty much bloody everything, really.

"You've got a small blister forming," she spoke in a slightly husky voice, or was that my imagination? She ran her right hand gently over my ankle as she supported my foot firmly in her left. Heat. Desire. Pulsing. Throbbing.

_Dead kittens, famine in Africa, Emmett dancing naked..._

"But it hasn't broken the skin. If I put a plaster on it, I'm sure it will be fine." And then she looked up at me, her eyes meeting mine for the first time as she looked up from her kneeling position in front of me. Shining hazel eyes, framed by long curved lashes. Pink cheeks, creamy skin, that little freckle. She dipped her chin slightly, looking up at me through the lashes, and licked her lips nervously... _oh God_... before continuing. "Is that okay?"

I nodded. Really 'yes' was the only response I was capable of giving her when she was in this position in front of me and looking up at me like that. I had absolutely no idea what she had just asked me, and I wouldn't have been able to find my voice for anything, but, bloody hell, 'yes' was my answer.

Letting go of my ankle, she reached into a bag she had fastened round her waist under her coat and, still holding onto my foot with her other hand, rooted around inside the bag until she found what she was looking for. Three seconds of heaven, I'm telling you. Those little vibrations ran through her and onto the hand holding my foot.

I had stopped breathing at this point. I wasn't entirely sure why because my brain had already ceased functioning and wasn't passing on any information to me. Possibly, I hoped that by providing less oxygen to my dick, he would just settle back down and behave himself, or maybe I thought that by not heaving great breaths of air into my lungs, I wouldn't make the coat fall open and reveal said dick in all his attention seeking glory. Whatever the reason, I was breathless, speechless, and clueless. Emmett would die laughing if he ever knew.

I realised that Bella was gently putting a small cushioned plaster - where the hell had she got that from?–on the back of my foot and was smoothing it down lightly with her gentle, warm hands. She was very good at what she was doing, and very good at her job.

_She's doing her job, idiot. She doesn't deserve to have you panting all over her like some old lecherous bastard._

I tried to pull myself together. After all, the situation was going to go one of two ways from here, and one of them would get me into the gossip columns for sure. And possibly the record books.

Shaking my head regretfully and drawing in another deep breath, not that they'd helped so far, I reluctantly pulled my foot away from her hand ..._no!_... and jumped down off the wall onto my shod foot. My leg felt shaky, like I'd run a marathon… or had a marathon round of sex.

_Christ, get your head out of the bedroom and concentrate on work._

_Don't need a bedroom, up against this wall would be…_

_SHUT UP._

Now that my hands were no longer gripping on to the top of the wall for dear life, I grabbed the sides of the gaping coat and pulled it shut in front of me, hiding what was possibly the hardest hard on I'd ever had in my life.

"Umm..." _Bloody brilliant. Is that all I'm capable of?_

Yes, actually. I needed to get this encounter over with, needed to get her to stand up so my fantasies weren't being fuelled by the sight of her on her knees in front of me.

_The first aid. Thank her for the plaster._

"Thanks. That's great," I finally managed to say hoarsely, gripping the edges of the coat together as though my life depended on it.

She handed me my sock, still on her knees.

_Please get up. Please get up._

"That'll be much more comfortable now, Bella. Thanks." I looked down to see what I was doing as I took the shoe that she passed up to me as well. From her knees. In front of me.

_Please stand up. Please stand up._

_I need two hands to put the sock on, and I can't do that and hold the coat closed. And you're kneeling, Jesus, kneeling right... there..._

She was staring up at me, her eyes wide and her mouth falling open momentarily before she snapped it shut again and, finally, stood up. Thank God because the sight of her open mouth with its pink tongue and pouty lips really wasn't helping the situation any. In fact, it just made it impossibly worse. Had I ever been this hard before? These jeans were killing me, cutting off circulation to the lower half of my body.

_Say something, anything._

"These are really nice trainers. I think I'll have to get some," I babbled weakly, but it was the best I could come up with.

_You're talking about shoes!_

_You said say anything._

She replied quietly, "They're Prada." I had to strain to hear her. "From their new collection. I'm sure you'll find them if you look. They'd be a change from your Nikes."

"Right. Okay. I will then," I uttered wretchedly, pulling on the sock and shoe as quickly as I could. Would this torture never end?

Cringing internally at my pitiful attempt at nonchalance, I now did the only thing that I could do in the current dire circumstances. I swung around, placed both hands back on the top of my old friend, the wall, and drew in deep breaths of fresh, cleansing air, my predicament now safely out of sight.

Thinking semi-calmly for the first time since forever, I willed my erection to die down, willed my brain to get back up to speed, willed her to smile at me now. Not sure where that last one came from.

I kept my back to her, doing everything I could to calm myself, glad that she was now standing at least. I'm not being funny, but shoving my dick in a woman's face was best reserved for other circumstances, right? _I'm being a gentleman here_.

Seconds passed while I tried to regain my composure. Or maybe minutes. It could have been hours.

"I think they're getting ready to shoot again now." _Why was her voice so cold?_ I nodded to let her know I'd heard her, not yet quite ready to take the coat off and face the world. Gentleman, remember? I made a grasp for the cup of now cold coffee I'd left sitting further along on the top of the wall, and it sloshed over the rim of the polystyrene cup as I brought it towards my lips.

Ms. Swan gasped. "Please be careful when you have a drink," she scolded sharply. "They're doing close-ups this afternoon, and there are now only two t-shirts to last the rest of the scenes." Ms. Stern Face was back, her voice cold and hard. What had happened to the husky voice and the gentle hands? I tuned her out as I struggled to get myself back under control. Being near her was exhausting.

_Think about work. Remember where you have to be for the next scene._

Behind me, she continued going on about mud and grass stains. Did she really think I couldn't even have a drink without spilling it on me? Last time had been an accident. I threw an annoyed look at her over my shoulder. Did she not realise how hard this was for me? No, I guess not, because she just narrowed her eyes at me and launched into a speech about taking care of my costume. Don't spill anything on the t-shirt, don't rip the jeans. God! Why did she run so hot and cold all the time, and why did she affect me so much? I thought of her beautiful eyes as she had gazed up at me and remembered the erotic heat of her touch.

_Fuck it. I just can't deal with this now._

Growling under my breath, I shrugged the coat off and thrust it into her hands. Putting my hands flat on the wall, I vaulted over it and stalked away towards where Jason was waiting with the re-positioned reflector. _Let her think I'm a rude bastard_. I didn't care. Damn woman. Making me feel…well…whatever in hell it was I felt when I was around her. And then even after that, after the sexiest twenty seconds I'd ever experienced in my life, managing to make me angry at her. I was definitely better off keeping far away from her. I was here to do a job, and I couldn't afford to have her messing with my head. Glancing back over my shoulder at her, I saw that she had folded the coat carefully, keeping the warmth inside.

_Damn, woman. You're something else._

_._

~~oo0oo~~

.

I had managed to put Ms. Swan's influence behind me long enough to do some work, and Jason had even complimented me on how energetically I had run, getting them the shots they needed. _Energetic, my arse. That was pent up frustration, mate._ I pulled at the sleeve of the t-shirt a bit as I waited for the lights to be repositioned, yet again, for some close shots. I had to admit to myself that it did fit well. The t-shirt was kind of soft, smelled really nice, too, like fabric softener maybe. Not that I would ever give her the satisfaction of knowing I thought that.

Over to one side of me, soft curses were coming from behind the lighting rig as Kate, one of the Grips, adjusted the light. She was stood on the top of a step ladder and was struggling with something or other up there.

"Shit," she cursed as she dropped a spanner and it disappeared with a soft thud into the thick covering of dead leaves on the ground.

"I've got it," I called to her and jogged over to the spot where I had seen it fall. Rooting around, I found it and passed it up to her. "Doing okay up there?"

Grimacing, she replied, "Yeah, I've got it now. This one's always a bit tricky." As she spoke, the spanner slipped again and she lost her balance and lurched sideways off the ladder. She was only a few feet up, but I reached to grab her since the ground was stony under all the leaves and it would hurt if she ended up on it.

She fell onto my chest with an 'oomph', and I staggered back a bit at the sudden weight. I grabbed her to stop us both crashing to the ground as I dug my heels in and found my balance again. Her face crunched up in surprise, and we both laughed.

"If you want a job as gaffers mate, you're hired," she grinned, pulling away and stepping back over to check the ladder. "If this acting thing doesn't work out for you, that is," she threw over her shoulder at me.

"I'm a Lecky, love. That's what I'm going back to." I laughed as I straightened up and stepped to her side. "And I don't know where that spanner went this time. It could be anywhere."

We both bent over and shuffled our feet exploratively through the dead leaves until she cried, "Found it! Don't want to lose this one. It's my lucky spanner."

"How the hell is that lucky?" I asked laughing at her. "You dropped it twice and fell off a ladder?"

"Yeah, but I ended up in your arms. If that's not lucky, I don't know what is!" She winked at me.

"Want me to autograph it for you?" I grinned back at her—she was a cheeky bugger.

"Maybe later. They want you now." She nodded over to Jason and Phil, who were waiting for me.

"Okay. Catch you later." I gave her a cocky grin.

"Oh, ha bloody ha," I heard her mutter as I jogged back over to my mark, grinning and preparing for yet another take of me running through the woods.

An hour later, Jason announced that we were going to do one more take before we broke for lunch and that we were going to move closer to the house so we could do the scene where I ran through a gateway. It had been carefully mapped out beforehand. I knew where my marks were. Kate and her crew had the lights rigged up. Hopefully, it would be a quick take.

Ms. Swan appeared from nowhere, came over and fiddled with the sleeves of my t-shirt and brushed some leaves or something from the back of it before scurrying away again_. _I gritted my teeth. _That's it. Keep away from me, and we'll both be better off. _I rubbed my chest absently where there was suddenly a weird ache.

I set off running, having to pass through the gateway quite quickly, but I realised that I had brushed too close to the tall oak gatepost when I felt something snag in the short sleeve of my t-shirt. It wasn't much, just a pull as I ran past.

"And cut!" called Jason. "You okay, Edward?" Looking down at my arm, I saw that I was, in fact, fine, but that my sleeve now had a hole ripped in it.

Ms. Swan was not going to be happy.

"We'll break for lunch there and pick this scene up again after," Jason decided.

I watched as Ms. Swan hurriedly made her way back over to me with what could have been concern on her face. I had to be imagining it.

"Are you okay?" she asked breathlessly, looking towards my arm.

"I'm fine," I replied abruptly, pulling away from her outstretched hand.

_God, don't touch me again. I still don't know what happened last time you did that._

She dropped her hand back to her side, annoyance clearly replacing concern on her features.

"I just caught a nail or something with the sleeve," I snapped tersely in automatic response to her increasingly angry expression. What was she angry about? Wait? Did she think I had done it deliberately? God, how could she think that? I took in a deep breath. I could feel something building up inside and I really, really wanted to release it. I wanted to do something to wipe that look off her face. I wanted to shout, or run, or…the words 'up against this wall' floated unbidden into my mind. Fuck! Why did I always end up thinking things like that? I took a step backwards needing to keep as much physical distance between us as possible. Because quite clearly otherwise she would drive me nuts.

"Well, pick up another t-shirt in wardrobe after lunch," she snapped back at me. "And this time, be careful with it. You seem to have a problem looking after your clothes." And with that, she spun on her heel to head away from me in the direction of the house.

My mouth fell open and the tension deflated inside me at her snappy retort. I watched frustrated and infuriated, as she stalked off down the path, taking my nice warm coat with her, too. What the hell? She was angry at me for spoiling her precious costume? It was an accident. I was lucky not to have been injured.

That woman was so damn infuriating.

And I had to live with her for another three and a half days! What did I ever do to deserve that?


	9. Chapter 9

**Huge thanks to my Beta MyHubbyIsATwilightWidow for fixing my awful punctuation for me, to ChloeCougar for pre-reading and being wonderful and to Iamamy for being amazingly supportive. Thanks guys!**

**A/N This is Bella's point of view of the last chapter.**

* * *

**Separation**

**Bella**** POV**

By the time we had trudged back to Wardrobe with Edward in his coffee stained T-shirt, I was feeling a bit apprehensive about my reactions. Sure, I was mad at him for deliberately spilling his coffee on one of the T-shirts I had spent ages making, but he was, in effect, my boss, and being rude to him was pretty much not done. Even if he did deserve it. _Bastard._

Once back in the warm room, I took another precious T-shirt off of its hanger and passed it to him silently. Looking almost, but not quite, contrite, he put it down on the large table in the centre of the room and started to pull the soiled one off over his head in that 'grab the back and pull' kind of way that men have. I gasped. I was caught off guard, expecting him to disappear safely behind the screen before he changed.

Not that I was complaining. It was just hard to remember why I disliked him when he took his clothes off in front of me.

What was it with him and taking T-shirts off in front of me? Was he trying to seduce me with his body? Because that could work.

_Damn right, it could._

_Shut up._

I stood there, carefully reminding myself of all the reasons why I disliked him so much, first of all being that he showed no regard for anyone but himself. Spilling that coffee on purpose was not only rude to me, but was really unprofessional; he could cause delays to everyone on set while he came and changed. And time is money around here.

Then there was the way he couldn't keep his hands off the women. Not even in the house five minutes and he was hitting on Jessica. We were such opposites, as well. He enjoyed all the things I hated; attention, publicity, fame. And he was rude to me, glaring at me and looking at me as though I was dirt under his feet. The words _thank you_ or _please_ had never left his lips once.

_…Sigh…_

_…Lips…_

_Pull yourself together._

He had beautiful lips, soft looking, the lower one fuller and just begging to be bitten and sucked. I could barely tear my eyes away. Except maybe to look a bit further down... yeah, that I could do. My eyes slid down to take in his beautifully sculpted, naked chest as he reached forward and picked up the clean T-shirt from the table and pulled it on over his head. Wait. Was he smirking at me?

_Oh, shit._

If anyone was ever asked to describe me, they usually said "quiet and shy." On a good day, they might say "quiet, shy and a hard worker." On a really, really, good, once in a blue moon day, they might say "quiet, shy, a hard worker and talented." But always it was quiet and shy. I didn't disagree with them. So why, whenever I was near this infuriating man, did my shyness get beaten down and my inner-self try and take over? Inner thoughts were only for me, not to be shared with the outside world, God forbid. Why, oh, why, could I not keep them safely locked down inside me whenever he was near? He was going to think that I wanted him if I kept looking at him like that.

_Well, you do._

_Yes, but not in reality. Just safely in my fantasy world._

_Oh, live a little, can't you?_

I squeaked a nervous reply to myself at the absurdity of the idea… _no_… and he glanced over at me, smirking again. Bastard. Snatching the coffee stained T-shirt from the table, I muttered that I would meet him outside and hurried down to the scullery to see if anything could be done to remove the stain. I was pretty sure the T-shirt could never be used again, but I just had to try. It was my baby. Well, one of them.

Cameras picked up colours differently than the naked eye, I knew. Marks and stains that can't be seen off camera can jump out embarrassingly on the screen, so I didn't want to use the T-shirt again just in case.

I washed it though and left it to dry, hanging forlornly in the scullery with every intention of collecting it later when it was dry and packing it away carefully in my bag. As a souvenir.

I pulled my coat back on, hurried back outside, and was just in time to remind Edward to adjust his sleeves before the cameras rolled. He gave me a sour look. _What?_ I was just doing my job.

The morning continued on. I stood with Angela, busy doing nothing, while we watched everything going on around us. They had Edward running back and forth again, and I watched carefully for sweat marks or anything else that might taint his costume. He was certainly working hard, listening to Jasons's directions, hitting his marks every time, putting his all into the work.

After a few hours, we took a break, thank God, because it was cold and tiring standing around not doing much. I looked over to see Edward heading towards the hot drinks and considered whether or not to make him change before he drank. He glanced over at me as he picked up a cup of steaming hot liquid and raised an enquiring brow. Challenging me. _So not going to go there_. I kept my expression stern; not wanting him to know how much that raised eyebrow increased my heart rate. God, it was sexy as hell.

Realising that he was heading to a relatively quiet patch of sun by a wall, I made my way over to join him. He was leaning his elbows on the wall, his back towards me, the flexing of his muscles giving me an amazing view of his beautiful, firm arse. Keeping my eyes firmly diverted, mostly, I handed him his coat to put on as soon as I was close enough. He stood up and managed to get the coat on without putting down the cup, swapping it from one hand to the other. The look he gave me made me think he was expecting a pat on the head for performing that trick so well. Idiot. Him and me. I looked stonily at him. Not caring if he damaged his costume or not was reprehensible. Even if the slight pout he was now wearing was absolutely adorable.

_Adorable! What the hell am I thinking!_

We said nothing to each other, not a single word, just both leaned our backs against the wall and stretched our legs out in front of us. He had long legs. Putting the cup down, finally, he placed his hands on the wall to either side of him and leaned back, stretching the muscles of his back and legs, getting rid of the kinks from the morning's work. The T-shirt rode up a little, revealing a strip of firm, toned stomach above the waist of his jeans, a vertical line of soft, dark hair taunting me.

_Don't look, don't look._

_Oh, all right, look, but don't look as if you're looking._

I looked. Those jeans stretched across his hips rather nicely, too. I could see which side he dressed, the jeans were pulling so snugly. (The left). I wondered what underwear he had on. I hadn't provided any, so he was wearing his own. There was the tiniest strip of white showing above the waist of his jeans, not enough to give me a clue.

Really, I shouldn't even be interested in his underwear, or which side he dressed, or even how enticingly the jeans pulled across his hips.

Really.

I had an almost uncontrollable desire to run my fingers through the soft trail of hair leading down into the waist of his jeans, to follow it down and discover the treasure it led to. It was a thought straight out of my fantasies. This was the problem with mixing fantasy and reality.

I really needed to get my mind onto other things. Like work, for instance. His jeans, as I had already established, looked as though they had survived the morning so far unscathed. His T-shirt was fine. I wondered whether there was anything else I needed to consider?

Underwear?

_One track mind, girl, or what?_

_Duh._

"How are your feet?" I found myself asking. It was a good job part of me could still function properly. That was something I could legitimately ask him, something as far away from his underwear as I could get.

I hurried to explain, gazing determinedly over his shoulder, "You've not worn those trainers before. I was worried that they might be rubbing you with all that running they have you doing." Hopefully, he wouldn't realise I had been ogling him again.

"Umm… yeah, they're fine; a little bit sore on the one heel, but not too bad," he replied cautiously, looking surprised.

"Do you want me to take a look for you?" I should have been looking after him better, damn it; I needed to do this job well. Though judging by how he couldn't stand me, he probably wouldn't want me feeling up his feet. "Or I can fetch the First Aider, and he can check for you." I hurried on nervously, not wanting him to think I was looking for an excuse to molest him. Besides, men's feet weren't my thing. Ugly, calloused, hairy things.

He seemed hesitant to agree anyway, shifting his weight on his feet, "Um… it's okay, I'm sure its fine." I relaxed, letting out a held breath. Good. No touching. _Much better that way._

"But perhaps we'd better check."

Shit. I couldn't believe he just said that. Well, okay, I asked him, and if he did have a blister or something, it needed dealing with as soon as possible. _Do your job, Bella._

I straightened up from the wall and moved round to stand in front of him, still not looking at his extremely distracting face. "Okay," I began, pulling up my professional persona. "Sit on the wall and take your shoe off." It was an instruction rather than a request, but he didn't hesitate to obey, putting his hands firmly on the top of the wall and hitching himself lithely up to sit between them.

He reached down with one hand and pulled the trainer off, the forward momentum making him lurch towards me slightly. I stepped a little closer and helped him catch his balance by putting my hand on his knee. It was an automatic gesture, I would have done the same for anyone, and I particularly didn't want Edward falling flat on his face in front of the wall and hurting himself. That wouldn't help my future job prospects.

I felt warmth flowing between us again as soon as I touched him. Soothing, exciting, addictive warmth. Melted chocolate running languorously over waiting skin kind of warmth. I bit my tongue inside my mouth to keep from reacting to it, though my knees felt a little weak and my insides were liquefying. How embarrassing. He would die laughing if he knew what an effect he had on me. Humiliatingly, I felt tears start to prickle in my eyes.

_Damn it, Bella. He may be sex on legs, but he's an arsehole of a man, remember?_

_Pull yourself together._

Edward froze, probably trying to decide whether to put me down for being so presumptuous as to touch him or risk falling off the wall. He obviously decided that my gesture had been well meant because he dropped the shoe he was holding in his hand and moved to take hold of the top of his sock.

Not wanting to risk him falling anymore, and needing to get on with doing my job rather than day dreaming about Edwards's body and melted chocolate, I quickly reached down with the intention of taking the sock off for him.

But our fingers touched as we both grasped the elasticated ankle of the sock together.

Slowly, so slowly or at least it felt that way, we each peeled a side of the sock down and around the heel of his foot.

It was the sexiest thing I'd ever experienced. Something so simple yet so intimate. My eyes were watching what we were doing, my teeth biting into my lip to prevent myself from uttering a single sound, although I wanted to. Oh, did I want to.

The touches of our skin were minute but multiple. The touch of our fingers rubbing against each other, cool skin, hard knuckles, long, pale fingers. It was fleeting and just a brush, innocent and ordinary yet highly charged and breath-catching. As, together, we pulled the sock around the heel, the pale skin on the top of his foot was revealed, faint blue lines of veins showing through the skin, fragile looking yet strong bones pressed against the flesh, taut and smooth. My nails scraped lightly over the hard, lightly ridged skin of his heel, the minute vibrations shooting through my fingers. The pads of my fingers barely swept along the inside arch of his foot, burning, scorching me in the barely-there touch, the warm skin cooling rapidly in the air, soft, delicate, vulnerable. And then the sock was off and away, and I held his foot in my hand, steadying him as he sat on the wall.

I would never look at a man's foot the same way again. Edwards's foot was beautiful.

I had expected the appendage to be ugly, with hard skin and hairy toes, but it wasn't. It was slim and pale, delicate yet strong at the same time, distinctly male, but beautiful.

I was standing in front of him, one hand on his knee still, holding his foot in my other hand. Holding his foot! Edward shifted uncomfortably on the stone wall and tried to sit up straighter. Embarrassed at the position we were in and the thoughts I was thinking, I decided to get this over with as quickly as possible. I needed to look at the back of his heel.

Kneeling down in front of him, I took a firmer grip of his beautiful foot and prepared to check for blisters.

_He really has got a lovely foot._

_It's so long. I knew his shoe size, but I didn't realise his foot was so big._

_You know what they say about the size of a man's foot…_

_Oh, good God. You did not just think that._

_Oh, yes, I did._

I glanced upwards just a tiny bit, just a flicker of my eyes. Well, I couldn't help it. It was automatic, and I was curious, damn it. And the position I was in gave me a pretty unique opportunity.

If it was true that men with big feet were big in other departments, then well, I wanted to know. Purely research purposes. He was a pretty perfect specimen all over. There's no way he wouldn't be blessed there too. Right?

Damn, why did I give him that coat to wear? It was hanging open a bit at the front, but not nearly enough for me to check out the theory. Bugger.

Half relieved, half annoyed, I gripped Edwards's foot a bit tighter and twisted it around slightly so I could see the back of it. _Get your mind out of the highly inappropriate gutter, Bella, and do your job like you're supposed to. _

"You've got a small blister forming," I told him, wishing I could clear my throat, but not wanting to draw attention to my totally inappropriate thoughts. "But it hasn't broken the skin. If I put a plaster on it, I'm sure it will be fine." I needed to know if that was okay with him, and he wasn't saying anything. Suddenly afraid that he was aware of my filthy thoughts and was disgusted with me, I raised my eyes hesitantly up to his, needing to know where I stood with him. Or rather knelt.

He was looking down at me. Eyes on me. Dark, stormy, hungry eyes. No, that couldn't be right. He was angry, not… hungry. I ducked my chin, wanting to hide the hurt in my eyes. How angry with me was he? "Is that okay?" I asked in barely more than a whisper, referring to the plaster. He nodded slowly, still not speaking to me. Okay, he was pretty angry then.

Shifting my grip on his foot – did he just moan? – I reached into my kit bag that I wore around my waist like a huge tool belt and searched in the second pocket on the left where I kept my first aid supplies. Finding a plaster, I pulled it out in relief and began the tricky procedure of applying it to Edwards's heel with one hand. Jiggling about a bit, I finally got it in place and smoothed it down.

Finished.

Realising this, Edward pulled his foot from my hand … _no_… and hopped down from the wall in front of me. The breeze picked up as he straightened, ruffling his mane of hair. He was obviously cold because he pulled the coat tight around him as he said, "Umm… thanks. That's great."

Getting my act together at last, I handed him his sock and knelt there like an idiot, waiting for him to put it on.

Looking uncomfortable, he said, "That'll be much more comfortable now, Bella. Thanks." His shoe that I was holding in my hand trembled. Did he just say thanks? Was that my name?

_He said my name._

_You are not a thirteen-year-old school girl. He said your name. Big deal._

_He said my name._

_Get up, you idiot, and stop gawping._

Quickly, I stood, eager to try and act normally. He said my name. He said… what? Something about the trainers?

"They're Prada, from their new collection. I'm sure you'll find them if you look. They'd make a nice change from your Nikes," I babbled, hoping it was an appropriate response to whatever he had just said. And now he knows I know what trainers he usually wears. Great, I should just wear a hat that says 'internet stalker' on the front of it.

"Right. Okay. I will then," he replied, pulling his sock on awkwardly. Damn, he was angry at me. That whole episode had gone so badly. First I ogled him, then I thought about the size of his penis while on my knees in front of him, then I admitted that I stalked him. I'd be lucky if he ever came near me again.

Should I apologise? But what would I say?_ Sorry I was wondering what size your penis is, hope you don't mind if I look now and again to try and see?_ Might not work well as an apology.

While I was musing worriedly, Edward finished putting his shoe back on and then made my decision for me.

He turned his back to me, shutting me out from that awkward, embarrassing moment and putting me right in my place.

Well, I deserved it. I hadn't acted professionally at all. But it still hurt. He didn't have to be quite so rude to me.

A few minutes passed in tense, stony silence. I glared at his back, stoking my anger. Damn bloody rude. Over on the other side of the wall, I saw that Jason was looking for Edward to start work again. Edward appeared to be miles away because he didn't notice.

"I think they're getting ready to shoot again now," I said tersely as he continued to ignore me, making me crosser still. I watched as he picked up the flimsy polystyrene cup from the top of the wall where he had left it and took a drink from it.

Bloody hell, if he threw that over himself again, I was going to kill him. Gritting my teeth, I ground out, "Please be careful when you have a drink. They're doing close-ups this afternoon, and there are now only two T-shirts to last the rest of these scenes." He continued to ignore me, sipping at what must by now be cold coffee as if I weren't even there. I felt it was my duty, not only to me but to the whole production, to remind him that damage to the costumes caused delays and interruptions to everyone, but still he ignored me as if he couldn't hear me at all. God, he was infuriating. He was acting like a child.

Suddenly, he wrenched the coat back off his shoulders, thrust it at me without even looking where he was throwing it, and in a graceful, lithe movement, flexed his body, vaulted over the wall, and jogged over to go and stand next to Jason. Folding the coat carefully to keep the warmth in I wondered for the hundredth time since arriving here how it was possible to dislike someone so intently.

~~oo0oo~~

I watched Edward mutinously for the rest of the morning, all thoughts of his big feet pushed aside as I contemplated his big egotistical head. Angela joined me again and looked at me surprised when I wasn't my usual unflappable, quiet self.

"What's up?" she asked kindly as I gritted my teeth for about the tenth time. I almost told her. I almost vented all the pent up frustration and anger, but managed to hold it back. It was more difficult than it had ever been. I did not vent. Not to anyone. Not ever. But that man, that aggravating, annoying, infuriating, gorgeous, big-footed man wound me up like no one before.

But I said nothing.

"Nothing," I replied to Angela's query, "Just tired." She nodded, understanding, if not believing, and we continued to watch as a last light was adjusted. I shuffled my feet through some leaves on the ground. Today was an easy day. The tricky stuff was still to come. How would I be able to manage when we were working inside, much closer than we were now?

"Oohh!" Angela suddenly whispered with a giggle, "Looks like Edward's busy." I whipped my head round just in time to see Edward with Kate in his arms, holding her body pressed close to his as he slid his hands down her sides and along her hips. She was leaning into him, and they smiled as they spoke close to each other's ears for a moment. "I wonder what they're saying? " Angela mused. "Think they're together?"

"For tonight maybe," I muttered bitchily. I stalked away, heading towards the catering table in search of caffeine. Lots of it. I wasn't sure what had me wound up the most; the fact that Edward was hitting on yet another woman or the fact that he hadn't done so with me? I stayed well away for the next hour or so, watching while a new scene was set up near the house. Surely we would break for lunch soon?

I realised belatedly that Edward was now standing on the path near me, preparing to run again, and that I needed to do my job. I hurried over, pulled out the Polaroid pictures from earlier as reference, fixed his sleeve, pulled a few leaves off him, tried not to think about how he might have got those leaves, and hurried away again. Lunch soon.

I saw it happen. I saw Edward's arm jerk back as he ran past the huge gate post, heard Bill call out to ask if he was okay. What had happened? Was he hurt? Looking round anxiously for Liam, our big, burly First Aid guy, I hurried over to Edward to see what had happened to him.

"Are you okay?" I asked him as I approached, trying to see around him and see if he was bleeding.

I reached up ready to, I don't know, apply pressure to a gaping wound or something, but he jerked his arm away from me snapping, "I'm fine."

Now he had turned, I could see that his arm was undamaged. No blood, no gaping wounds. Thank God. What had happened?

"I just caught a nail or something with the sleeve," he told me curtly, turning away from me, so obviously not wanting me near him. My knees felt weak. Where was that Alec guy? He was supposed to have made sure the place was safe. What was he doing leaving a rusty nail, for God's sake, for Edward to injure himself on? He could have cut himself, needed stitches, got tetanus or one of those really awful infections like they have on House every week. He could have died. Okay, I realised that I was going a bit far, but my point was valid. A rusty nail was dangerous.

Where the hell was Alec? I was going to have words with him.

Edward glanced back and glared at me before fixing his stare in the opposite direction. What? I was just concerned about him. My relief at finding him unhurt quickly switched to anger at his attitude towards me.

"Well, pick up another T-shirt in wardrobe after lunch," I snapped at him, turning away towards the house. "And this time, be careful with it. You seem to have a problem looking after your clothes." I marched away in the direction of the house and the lunch that was waiting there, my appetite completely gone now. He wasn't the only one who could turn his back and walk away. I really needed some separation right now.

He was so infuriating.

I couldn't wait until these four days were over.

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**Thankyou to everyone who has reviewed, it means the world to me, honestly!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Huge thanks to my Beta MyHubbyIsATwilightWidow for magically sorting out my appalling punctuation, to ChloeCougar for pre-reading and keeping me on track and to Iamamy for all her support.**

**You get an early update this week! (Don't get too used to it though, please!)**

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**Product Placement**

**Edward POV**

I stared after Bella as she stormed off towards the house, my head whirling. Why the hell was it that I never knew what was going to happen between us? One second, I was angry at her, and the next, she was storming off angry at me, and I was left standing there feeling like a chastised child. Was it normal to have this kind of relationship with someone you worked with?

No. I'd never had so much trouble with someone I worked with before. Ever.

"Edward! Are you okay, mate?" Alec called anxiously from behind me as he jogged up the path towards me, his feet crunching on the fine gravel.

"Yeah, sure," I answered vaguely, waving off his concern, still watching the retreating form of an enigma named Bella Swan as she disappeared around a corner and out of my sight, the vague tugging in my gut disappearing as she did. Weird.

"Are you sure?" Alec persisted in concern as he reached my side. "You seem a bit distracted. You didn't wrench your arm, did you? Are you in any pain?"

I pulled my attention away from the gate that Bella had disappeared through and turned it back to Alec, looking blankly at him, quirking an eyebrow in question, "…What?"

"I said," he repeated patiently, like you would to a sick person, "Are you hurt?"

"What? No, of course not. It was just my sleeve that got pulled a bit. I'm fine." I fingered the tear in the sleeve absently again as I spoke. "Don't worry about it, Alec. It wasn't your fault."

"Yeah, it was," he stated firmly. "I should have prevented that."

"It was just an accident. No one's going to blame you," I replied a bit more heatedly. I hated it when people made a fuss of me; I was just an ordinary guy, not royalty or something.

Alec laughed ruefully. "The production company will have my arse for it."

I opened my mouth to protest, and he rode over me continuing, "And rightly. It was my mistake, but that doesn't matter. I just wanted to make sure you were okay with everything. I'm really sorry, mate. I don't know how I miss…"

"Hey, it was just an accident, Alec," I interrupted firmly.

_Just treat me like a regular person, please._

"Don't worry over it," I continued, then changed the subject. "Are we all set for this afternoon?" I guessed that was where Alec had been, preparing for this afternoon's scenes.

He allowed me to move the conversation on, realising I didn't want a fuss made. "Yeah, everything's set. It's a couple of simple jumps. We'll just have a few run-throughs, and you'll be fine."

I nodded, punching him in the bicep good-humouredly. "Great. Let's go to lunch. I'm starved."

"Okay, well, I need to face the music here a bit more, mate, but I'll see you later, and we'll block out your moves then." He punched me on the arm in return, a bit harder than I had him, damn stunt guys, always the tough ones, and grinned at me, knowing what I was thinking. "See you in a bit, ya wimp."

I growled under my breath, glaring at him, but he just laughed before pushing me in the direction of the house and moving off to consult with Wal, who was not looking too happy. I crunched along the gravel, following the exodus towards sustenance, my mind switching back to Bella again.

_Surprise, surprise, just can't stop thinking about her, can you?_

_I wish I knew why._

_You know why. It's because you've never felt anything like this before. You're enjoying it._

_Like hell I am. She's so bloody annoying I can barely focus on the job._

_Yeah, like that's the only reason._

_Shut it._

When I reached the house, I followed the crowd towards the kitchen where everyone happily helped themselves to the 'grab-and-go' food before either sitting down to eat it or moving on to continue working while eating. I preferred to sit with everyone else, soaking up the chatter and joining in with the good-natured ribbing about finding the only rusty nail in the whole bloody place to get myself snagged on. No one seemed too bothered though. We were on schedule, and that was what counted around here.

This lunch was the usual sort of thing, hurried and everyone actually working rather than relaxing. Talk of the next scenes, what had gone right, what had gone wrong this morning (including my rusty nail incident.) There was some frustration over equipment that hadn't worked right, which had me worried for a minute in case we were going to have to do that all over again. Pete entered the room at that point and caught my eye, giving me a reassuring thumbs-up from across the warm, crowded kitchen. _Phew, no reshoots._

The stress level gradually reduced as the food was consumed hungrily, though the constant movement of bodies as people came and went was hardly what you would call relaxing.

I was glad of the chance to take the weight off and warm up; I hadn't done that much exercise for a while, and this afternoon there would be even more. They had me jumping over walls and stuff, so I knew I'd have to concentrate on getting it right.

I was used to it. This was work. A day in the office. I fingered the torn sleeve absently, guilty about damaging my costume even though it hadn't been my fault. I hadn't actually apologised to Bella about it, and I felt as though I should have. The compulsion to seek her out and talk to her grew, covering over my anger… frustration… irritation… whatever in hell it was. Glancing around as casually as I could, I couldn't see any sign of her in the kitchen. Had she been and gone?

The urge to see her grew—to apologise, to make sure she had had some lunch and wasn't missing out. What the hell was that all about? It wasn't like she couldn't take care of herself, because I was more than sure she could.

I stood up from my place at the table, mouthed "bathroom" to Pete when he looked enquiringly at me, and went in search of Bella Swan; annoying, irritating, intriguing, confusing, mystifying, terrifying woman that she was. I made a conscious decision not to evaluate that list I had just recited. I didn't want to know what I meant by it.

I found her in Wardrobe, of course. Leaning against the door frame, I watched her quietly, enjoying the opportunity to observe her without her knowing I was there. Adding to my admittedly small store of knowledge about her. Thinking over the things I still wanted to know.

Why on earth was she here in this empty, cold room and not with everyone else in the warm kitchen? Or at least with Angela? They had seemed to be getting on all right. Her snobby attitude to mixing with the others irritated me. Did she really think she was better than everyone else here?

Was she still angry at me for destroying two T-shirts? I couldn't have been the first actor to have accidently damaged something? Her attitude towards me annoyed me no end.

What about what had happened when she was putting that plaster on my foot? My body's reaction to her. What was that all about? How did she do that to me? I was angry at myself for reacting like that, but even angrier at her for _not_ reacting to me the same way. Well, not exactly the same way, obviously, but she had been impersonal and cold, while my body and brain had been a raging inferno. And I hated her for that!

She was just fucking annoying.

She was just…

I sighed. I didn't know. She just _was_.

And yet, despite all that, here I was, leaning against the doorway, watching her and asking myself questions I didn't even know why I was asking.

So I let the anger and the frustration and the confusion sink to the bottom of my thoughts, and I watched her, enjoying the chance. She was unlike any woman I'd ever known.

She had her back to me as she sat at the huge cloth-covered table. Her profile was partly turned towards me though, and I realised that she was sat in a chair with her legs stretched out in front of her, her feet propped up on another chair. In one hand, she held a sandwich, and in the other, a pen as she worked on some paperwork spread out on the table. She was completely relaxed, the most relaxed and comfortable I had yet seen her. She had stripped off some of the layers of clothes and had tossed them on the back of the chair and was wearing slim fitting jeans and a long sleeved shirt over what looked like a vest thing. Alice would roll her eyes at me for not knowing the correct terms. But all I could think of was the glimpse through those layers that I had had earlier as she bent over and helped me with my shoe.

They were a few seconds I was unlikely to forget.

I studied her face carefully, not knowing if a chance like this would come again. Her hair was drawn back into a single bunch still, but it looked windblown and wispy and not at all styled and falsely held in place, as many women would have worn it. It was natural, and for all its constraints into an elastic thing at her nape, it looked free.

The drawn back hair allowed her neck to be seen, her ear, her jaw, all pale skin, smooth, firm yet soft. Could someone be firm and soft at the same time? I didn't know, but if anyone could be, it would be contradictory Bella Swan. I could see her cheek. Again, soft and smooth, a faint pink covering it, which I was pretty sure wasn't make-up. Her eyes were drawn to the page she was writing on, her long lashes visible even from my vantage point at the door. Her lips were drawn up into a gentle smile which twitched and moved as she mouthed words silently as she worked. What was she saying?

Suddenly, making me jump and almost giving away my newly found voyeuristic tendencies, she made a sound—a humming sound, melodic but tuneless. I realised that she was humming to music. I saw an iPod now, sitting on the table next to her plate. The distinctive white cord stretched up towards her far ear. She was only listening with one bud; she was at work, after all. Her body was swaying slightly in time with whatever she was now tunelessly humming to, socked toes tapping, her thigh rhythmically tensing and releasing. I gulped at the sight. She couldn't carry a tune, that was for sure. But she was the embodiment of contentment as she sat there.

She could have sat with everyone else in the kitchen, but for whatever reasons, she chose to sit here, alone. But she wasn't cowed by the solitary status; somehow, she seemed to own it.

It was a disconcerting thought which was yet another one to add to all the other confusing mixed up thoughts I had about her. They were all really making it difficult to concentrate on anything else, especially when you added in that strange sort of pull I felt towards her and the heat when we touched.

The whole package was kind of frightening in that 'never done that before' kind of way. Like the first time you're sitting at the top of a drop slide wondering whether to go for it or step back and walk away.

I shook my head, hoping to clear out all those kind of thoughts. I couldn't deal with all of this now. I had a job to do, and no time to be all mixed up. She and I were just two really different people with nothing in common, who would likely never meet again after these few days. I needed to step away from this. I needed to keep away from her. I needed to keep her away from me.

Determinedly I shoved my hands in my pockets, pushed myself off the door frame, and plodded back to the kitchen to finish my sandwich and get ready for this afternoon. The memory of pink cheeks and tuneless humming followed doggedly along with me.

.

~~ooOoo~~

**Bella POV**

I hummed away to the music as I sat and ate my lunch, diligently ignoring the 'feeling' that I had inside me. I had started to think that I could tell when Edward was near. There was this sort of tugging feeling going on, but quite obviously I had been wrong. I didn't lift my eyes up from the plate and the paperwork in front of me, but my peripheral vision told me that the room all around me was completely empty.

I didn't know whether to be pleased or not. I certainly didn't want the infuriating man anywhere near me, but then, it had been special somehow to think that we had this weird connection. Not that I wanted it. At all. But I had to admit, I was a bit disappointed.

I still felt it though. I felt it now. I felt as though he was here somewhere watching me. I flicked my eyes up and looked around the room quickly. No, nothing.

So it must be static in the air or maybe the place was haunted or maybe I had eaten something that disagreed with me? Because any explanation was better than thinking that I had any kind of connection with a famous film star and then realising that, in reality, I didn't.

I finished the rest of my sandwich while I filled in the continuity sheets, though there wasn't much to put, and checked my kit over ready for the afternoon. It was best to be prepared for everything, costume wise.

There was no way that I would have been comfortable eating lunch in the busy kitchen surrounded by so many people, so I was glad to have got there early and been able to grab a sandwich and slip off to my room on my own. The peace and solitude were comforting. And God knows I needed some comfort. It had been a heck of a morning. My emotions had been all over the place, which was something that never happened to me. I was normally as placid and unruffled as anyone, so to be decidedly ruffled was a shock. My last boyfriend had got fed up with what he called my 'ice-queen act' and had left, ignoring the still-waters-run-deep analogy I had tried to explain my feelings with. It had hurt.

So how did Edward Masen do this to me? Was it just because I had built up a fantasy about him or was it something real? No way of knowing. Anyway, there was no way that he felt anything for me other than negative things, and besides, we were working together; nothing could or would happen.

Having a few minutes peace to pull myself together was refreshing. If I wanted to get a good recommendation from this job—if I didn't want to get fired—I was going to have to do better.

We would be back outside filming this afternoon. Edward was going to be doing some short action sequences; jumping over a wall in one, reaching up and grabbing a branch to swing over another wall in another. I glanced out of the window. The weather seemed to be still cooperating, so with any luck, we wouldn't all have to huddle up under umbrellas.

I checked my bag over again, unplugged the camera from the charger and slipped it into a pocket, and then pulled on my many layers to ward off the cold air outside. I grabbed Edward's coat, too. He would need it. Leaving my room to look for him, I heard sounds from Angela's room next door and peered round the door frame to see what was going on. My heart clenched at the sight of Edward sitting in a chair laughing while Angela ran her hands through his hair, getting him ready for the next scenes and Jessica stood close by, joining in with the joke. I had a moment of feeling that I couldn't, wouldn't identify. I was pretty sure it was jealousy, but I pushed it right to the back of my mind. I was just not going to think like that.

Whatever it was, Edward seemed to be in a good mood, so I stepped into the room, intending to let him know that his new T-shirt was ready for him next door. All three of them looked up at me as I entered.

Jessica called out cheerfully, "Hi, Bella. How are you getting on today?" Angela rolled her eyes at me and nodded comically, indicating her hands in Edward's hair, which I knew she must have been loving. And Edward? Edward shut me out. No other way to describe it. One second he was laughing with the other women, relaxed and carefree, and the next, he was stiff as a board, his face expressionless and cold. He had glanced at me as I entered the room, but now his eyes wouldn't meet mine at all.

I had expected it. I mean, really, I had. It was a bitter pill to swallow though. The difference in him when I was near him was obvious. He flirted with everyone else apart from me. And Angela was married, for God's sake. Had he no morals at all?

Angela glanced curiously at Edward before announcing that she was finished with him, and he began to stand.

"I've... er… got your things ready next door," I told him in rather a weak voice. Really, I needed to do better than that. "When you're ready," I finished with a bit more strength in my voice. I was not going to let him get to me. Well, I wasn't going to let him know he was getting to me anyway. Because he was definitely getting to me.

I turned and scurried back into my room, deciding that he was not the only one who could ignore people. I stood waiting for him, trying not to fidget too much, but unable to stop the irritated tapping of my foot against the floor. A few moments later, he followed, going straight over to the table where the t-shirt was waiting for him. He didn't say anything to me. He didn't look at me. He didn't acknowledge me in any way. I gritted my teeth, torn between hurt and fury. Really, he was so bloody infuriating. I was going to end up with ulcers after all this. Plus, I was going to self-combust. Not a good combination.

"This okay?" His wooden voice sounded suddenly, pulling me out of my day-dreams, where I was torn between causing him actual bodily harm and actually just jumping his body. He had rolled his sleeves a little and was standing, staring out of the window, presumably waiting for me to check him over, which, despite everything, was a joy to do. This T-shirt was just as good a fit as the other two—I was so proud of my babies. And his perfectly shaped arse looked delectable in those jeans. They fitted him so well; not too tight, but just enough to mold to his toned legs.

Wasn't it great that I got to run my eyes over him as much as I wanted, and I could call it work?

He cleared his throat impatiently, waiting for me to give him the okay to get back outside. I was tempted to keep him hanging around just to piss him off because he deserved it, but I came to my senses in time to realise that it would be: a) childish, and b) unprofessional. I walked over to the table, picked up his coat that I had placed back down there, and handed it to him as a sign that we were finished here. I didn't look him in the eye either. Really, it was quite ridiculous.

Grinding out a curt, "Thanks," through what I was sure were gritted teeth, he pulled the coat jerkily on and strode out of the room. Long legs and a mane of sex hair. Pity he was an insufferable, irritating, rude bastard.

~~oo0oo~~

I had a bit of time before I would be needed outside, since Edward would be running through what he needed to be doing, so I made another quick trip to the loo—all those hot drinks this morning—and then made my way into Angela's room.

She looked up at me with a smile when I entered. "I'm just packing this stuff up," she said, indicating her make-up items. "And then I'll be ready to go out again." I nodded in response, not sure how I wanted to play this. It felt a bit awkward the way Edward liked her but hated me. Of course, she probably hadn't noticed.

"So what was up between you and Edward just now?"

Bugger. Okay, she had.

"Nothing. Why?" was my totally pathetic answer.

"Sweetie, he was relaxed and chatty until you walked in the room, and then he froze up like a statue. Have you two got a history or something?" Her tone was concern mixed with curiosity. I couldn't blame her.

I sighed. "No, no history…" to speak of, "...he just doesn't seem to like me for some reason." I found myself looking at her imploringly. Perhaps she could tell me what was wrong with me to make him act like that? Again, pathetic.

"Well, if he doesn't, he's crazy," she stated decisively, zipping up the last section of her huge make-up bag. "His loss, right?" And she smiled reassuringly at me, though I got the impression that she thought there was something else going on. If there was, I wished like hell I knew what it was. "Are you ready to go on out?"

I shifted the jumpers and coat I was holding in my arms and replied, "Sure. Just need to get bundled back up again." We both pulled our various layers on, preparing for the cold outside. Before we left, Angela put her hand on my arm, stopping me from leaving the room, and said, "Don't worry. He's really nice when you get to know him. Just give him a chance." I smiled weakly in response. He wasn't the man I wished he was. I wasn't sure I wanted to give him a chance.

We headed outside, crunching over the gravel paths, sinking a bit into the soggy lawns, and sloshing through mud as we approached the stone outbuilding and walls that were the setting for the afternoon's scenes. I could see Edward and Alec at work as we approached.

It seemed that Edward was going to be swinging himself over a wall by running up, grabbing an overhanging tree branch, and using it to swing himself over the wall before landing on this side and taking off running again. They were preparing carefully, I was glad to note, and both seemed pretty relaxed about it.

Keeping well out of the way, Angela and I stood off to the side, watching and waiting until we were needed. They did two complete run-throughs with Edward still wearing his coat to keep warm. Lights were fiddled with, cameras prepped, and then it was time for a take. We hurried over, and Angela went to work sorting out the slight sheen on Edward's face. I waited until they had finished and then held out my hand to take his coat. He undid it, slipped if off his shoulders, and handed it to me without acknowledging my presence at all.

I glared at him, actually narrowed my eyes and glared. Damn man. Damn sexy-as-hell man. I checked him over (what a job, I know) and, deciding that he was good to go, turned and made my way around the wall, not over it, luckily, and back over to stand by Angela.

I was still brooding mutinously over the way he treated me and nearly missed the shot altogether. And that would have been a real shame.

Edward ran towards the wall, reaching up above his head to grab hold of the tree branch. As he reached up, the T-shirt, which had been sitting just at the waistband of his jeans, rode up, revealing the washboard abs that had been hiding beneath it. Swinging himself over the wall, he kicked his legs out, stretching his body deliciously, before releasing the branch and landing back on the ground again on this side of the wall. Straightening from his slight crouch from landing, he took off running again and out of shot.

"Oh. My. God," said Angela beside me.

Quite. Edward was magnificent. The way the T-shirt rode up and his jeans slipped down slightly on his narrow hips. The way his muscles flexed and stretched right in the camera's view. And that glimpse of his toned body. Beautiful.

But there was something not quite right. Trying to pull myself out of the sexual fantasy that I had just witnessed, I thought professionally about what I had seen. Then I got it. I had seen white. I turned around to look at Edward, wondering what it was that hadn't seemed right. As I watched, he reached both arms above his head, gripped his fingers together, and stretched up, getting the kinks out of his body and arms.

And there it was again. A flash of white. Even I was distracted from his abs by the flash of white showing where his jeans had slipped down his hips. And that was saying something.

I was standing over forty feet from him, and I could clearly see that he was wearing Calvin Klein underwear. Those guys sure knew how to brand their product.

Perhaps it was just me. Maybe I just had a fixation with his underwear. I needed to see the shot close up. I trotted over to the monitor—time was money, after all—and peered over various shoulders so I could see what the camera had seen. Much closer. Oh my God, he was gorgeous. I had a hard time stopping myself from drooling. Seriously.

Looking at the monitor though, the flash of white was even more obvious. Well, to me, anyway. The strip of stark white elastic between his creamy skin and his dark jeans was just plain distracting. Design goal number one: the audience must not notice the costumes. And those white CK's were definitely noticeable. I hesitated for a moment. Was I letting my decidedly non-professional judgement rule me? I looked again. No. That flash of white darting across the screen was distracting to the audience and needed to go.

I cleared my throat nervously, "Er, Jason?" He flicked a glance up at me from where he was sitting in his canvas chair looking intently at the monitor, head-phones askew on his head. "Sorry, but I have a problem with how he looks."

Jason looked around at me now, a puzzled look on his face. "He looks fine to me; moved well, got it right first time." There was more than a hint of pride in his voice. He looked questioningly at me, silently asking me to justify my declaration.

"Can you go back to the beginning?" I asked, pointing to the screen. The image flickered then resumed, showing Edward reaching up and grabbing the branch again. "Stop it there," I instructed. "There. Look." I pointed to the bright white strip across Edwards's lower abdomen. The black initials CK were clearly visible in the centre of the white. "I'm sorry. It's my fault. I should have realised that it would be visible." Bill and the others leaned in and looked closer. "If you play it again, tell me if you are not distracted by that flash of white now," I continued as the film went back to the beginning and Edward grabbed the branch and swung himself over the wall, the white flash of Calvin Kleins drawing my eye.

"She's right," Phil said to my left. "Now I'm looking at it, it's all I can see."

Jason nodded, and Wal added, "They're not one of our sponsors, either, so we can't have that."

Looking up at me with slight irritation, Jason asked, "Can you fix it?"

"Yes, sure. Just give me a few minutes," I replied confidently, hoping that I could 'fix it' and quickly.

"I want to adjust that lighting as he swings over anyway," Pete muttered, pointing to the monitor again. "See, it's not hitting right here."

I left them to it and hurried around the wall, over to where Edward was standing waiting for the verdict of the shot. He arched an eyebrow at me as I approached, then seemed to sigh before turning slightly so he didn't have to watch me walk over. _Damn him, ignoring me again._ He made me so mad. I made sure my churning emotions weren't showing on my face as I said, "I'm sorry, but there's a problem with the shot. You'll need to do it again." He made to swing away from me and head back to his start position.

"No," I called, stopping him in his tracks. "It's a costume issue. Sorry." He looked himself up and down, his thick, dark brows squirreling adorably… _damn it…_ obviously puzzled at what I could mean.

"I've not spilt coffee, not ripped anything. What could the problem be?" he queried sardonically. I took a deep, calming breath.

"Well…"

_Get on with it. Just spit it out, girl._

"… The top of your underwear is showing over your jeans, and I… er… Jason thinks it's a bit distracting…" I trailed off. He was looking incredulous that I was talking about his underwear. Like it wasn't something that someone like me should even have been thinking about.

Well, he was right there actually.

"We just need to sort the problem out. It won't take long," I tried offering soothingly. "We'll go up to the house now and…"

"There's nothing showing over these jeans," he stated defiantly, pulling the front of his T-shirt up a few inches, revealing his hard, creamy abs. "There. See?"

Oh, yeah, I saw. I tried to tear my eyes away from the delicious sight before me. Licking my suddenly dry lips I said, "Well, when you stretch up, the jeans slip down a bit, and, well, you can see them." _It might be a good time to start looking him in the eye because I was staring at his low slung jeans now._ At his stomach. His lower stomach, his abs, his treasure trail…

_Oh, hell._

He leaned in closer towards me, a seductive smile tugging at his lips, looking at me through his long, beautiful eyelashes, causing goose bumps to blossom all over me.

"Are you sure you don't just want to get your hands on my jeans, Ms. Swan?" he asked before he straightened, his expression tightening again as if he were angry with himself for something. He turned away from me, lowering the T-shirt back down, blocking my stare.

I gasped, shocked that, well, he was right actually.

"Take a look at the monitor yourself if you like," I retorted crossly, embarrassed to have been caught blatantly staring.

"I'm sure it's fine," he stated back just as firmly, dismissing me with his attitude. Damn it, couldn't he understand I was just doing my job here? I started tapping my foot nervously on the ground, but whether as a prelude to kicking him or jumping him, I wasn't sure.

"Actually, Mr. Masen, it's not fine. The underwear needs to go." Both of his mobile brows rose sharply at my words. He looked almost horrified at the thought. Completely ignoring me again, he strode over to the monitor and spoke to Pete and Alistair before leaning in to watch what was on the small screen.

I took in a deep breath. This job was so much harder than I ever thought it was going to be. How could I have possibly known that I was going to be working with such an impossible man? And my own personal feelings were just making it all so much more difficult for me.

He was without a doubt the most infuriating man I had ever met. He was driving me crazy with his bloody-minded, stubborn attitude. Not to mention the heat he generated in me. Just being in the same room with his tall, long-legged frame, sharp, angular jaw and eyelashes to die for and I felt myself go up in flames.

And he didn't even notice me.

I mean, he behaved as if I wasn't even in the room. A blank space. When he had to speak directly to me, it was practically through gritted teeth.

_Bloody actors._ An attitude was the last thing I needed to deal with. I had a job to do here, and he was not going to distract me from it. This was my best chance to prove myself. And he was bloody well going to do what I said, whether he liked it or not. He could give me those stubborn, pouty, up-through-his-eyelashes looks all he liked.

_Oh, yes, please..._

Oh, no, not likely. I was not going to let myself fall for him. After all, most of the time, he looked at me like I was a particularly annoying elderly aunt that he had to be polite to, but didn't really like. Oh, I hated that. Especially the elderly bit. We were almost the same age, damn it. Okay, so I found myself treating him more and more like a three-year-old, but it was his own fault. He was behaving like one. I mentally stamped my foot. Like a three-year-old. God, it was contagious.

I made sure to keep my expression stern whenever we were in one another's vicinity, keeping my body rigid, firmly under my control. Foot tapping was the only outward sign of the energy boiling around madly inside of me, from the top of my scalp to the tips of my toes and not missing any parts in between. None. At. All.

I took a deep calming breath. He saw. His eyes swung up to meet mine across the space between us; stubborn, determined and, oh, deep sea green pools of sexual delight, promising... promising... Sensing a win, he cocked his head slightly and allowed his expression to slip into what could only be described as a smirk. _Bastard._ He quirked his eyebrow and I barely kept a whimper from escaping.

_The quirk and smirk. Oh, God._

I was teetering on the brink. Just from a look. _Damn him._ Gathering what were most definitely the very last tatters of my resolve, I stepped towards him, gave him my best maiden aunt stern glare, and spoke to him firmly.

"Mr. Masen, I'm told that you're very good at your job, but believe me when I say that I am damn good at my job, too. Now go into my room and take your underwear off."

There were several seconds of the quietest quiet I had ever heard. I swear I heard the grass growing under my feet before he straightened, the cocky smirk gone now.

Alistair snickered next to him before adding his penny-worth, "Yeah, go and change, Edward. Do as the lady says." And I could have kissed him. Or kicked him.

Trying, and probably not succeeding, to keep the smug look off my face, I walked past them heading towards the house, hearing Edward fall into step just behind me. After a few minutes, when we were well away from everyone else, he leaned forwards as we walked, his hot breath caressing my ear. "You know," he started softly, "I don't need any help getting undressed… unless you wanted to take my underwear off for me?"

I gasped and stopped walking so suddenly that he ran into the back of me, his hard body pressing into mine for a few seconds before he stepped back away from me again.

Turning slowly, deliberately, I balled my hands into fists to prevent myself from doing something that I would regret; pulled every last tiny piece of self-control I had together, looked him in the eye, and said, "You're the last man I would want to help out of his underwear, Mr. Masen," before turning and marching defiantly back to the bustle and confusion of the location we had just left.

So he thought he could mess with me, did he? Well, two could play at that game.

.

* * *

**Chapter End Notes:**

**Thanks to every one who has reviewed, alerted and favourited this story. Your support means the world to me.**

**At the time this chapter takes place, Edward and Bella have been working together for about 7 or 8 hours. Adding together the few hours they were together the previous evening, they have still only known each other for less than a day. I know, it feels like longer! It does to me too!**

**I promise that their relationship will move forward soon, just let me enjoy torturing them a little bit more first, it's such fun!**

**I'd love to know what you think of the story so far, and what you think might happen in the rest of the story. Next up, will Edward enjoy the experience of 'going commando'? Will Bella enjoy it too? And will Edward get any sore bits that need kissing better...?**


	11. No Resolve

**Huge thanks to my Beta MyHubbyIsATwilightWidow for sorting out my appalling punctuation, to ChloeCougar for pre-reading and keeping me on track and to Iamamy for being wonderfully supportive.**

**Bit of a longer chapter this one but I hope you won't mind!**

* * *

**No Resolve**

**Edward POV**

I just had no resolve where that woman was concerned. I seemed to be changing my mind about her every five bloody minutes. It was exhausting. Exhilarating. Still scary as fuck.

My decision to put some distance between us lasted about an hour. As soon as she got all huffy and red-faced and told me to take my boxers off, I couldn't keep away from her any longer. I just couldn't resist seeing that expression on her face again. I may have pushed things a bit too far though, when I suggested she actually come and help me take them off, but it seemed that teasing her was irresistible. I chuckled to myself as I ran up the stairs towards my room. She had a lot of backbone, that was for sure. It wasn't the first time I had seen fire in her eyes.

_Watch out, mate. She'll get you back._

Now that was an intriguing possibility. Would she remain professional or would she tease me back? My body responded very positively at the thought of Ms. Stern-face-Swan teasing me.

_Damn it. Not now._

I rushed into my bedroom and started toeing off the trainers I wore while undoing the button on the jeans.

_Mustn't take too long. Everyone's waiting. What did she want me to wear instead of these boxers?_

I stopped my undressing at the realisation that she hadn't actually specified what I should wear instead, just that I should take them off. And that was a memory to save for another day. What else had she said? "The underwear needs to go"? Did she mean completely?

I thought about the clothes I had brought with me. I hadn't brought much. We were only here for a few days. And anyway, all my boxers were the same. They were what I liked.

Yeah, I was going to have to go commando.

My dick twitched in my damn boxers as I thought this. I never went commando these days, too many cameras around that saw everything. Even when I had done in the past, it was only on what you might call special occasions; when I was on a date and onto a sure thing or when I was hoping at any rate. Until now, no boxers meant sex.

_Fuck. Really, mate. Don't think the 's' word._

_Too late._

I finished pulling off the jeans and hesitated before stripping off the snug boxer briefs, too. My semi-erect dick was there all expectant just at the thought of what I was doing.

_Sorry. Not going to happen this time._

I thought about Ms. Swan again, and my dick twitched in response.

_Seriously, get it together, man, and stop thinking about her._

So, of course, I thought about her. I was pretty sure I'd never been propositioned quite like that before. Of course, that wasn't actually a proposition, but a woman just asked me to take my underwear off so it was as good as. Kind of. Jesus, I really needed to stop thinking about it.

I pulled the jeans back on, tucking my delicate areas (yeah, I snorted when I thought that) carefully away from the threatening teeth of the zipper before pulling it up. I sat on the edge of the bed to pull the trainers back on, trying without much success, not to remember the last time this trainer had been off and how her hand had felt around my foot.

_Think what her hand would feel like around..._

_Fuck. Stop thinking like that._

I was angry at myself for falling into her mysterious power again and jumped up from the bed, wanting to get on with work and get this project finished. Wanting, needing to get away from her. I almost ran across the room to the door, grasped the handle and then stopped, leaned my forehead against the smooth cool wood for a moment, and breathed deep.

_Get it together, Masen. Job to do here._

I'd slipped up again when I whispered to her that she might like to come and help take off the underwear she was so adamant about. I just couldn't stop myself. Breaking from the physical restraint I had promised myself I'd keep had happened before I could stop it. She really did have some kind of spell over me. But, damn it, I was all grown up. I didn't need to behave like a horny adolescent. I could—no, I would—control myself and keep away from her. I had to. It was for the best, after all.

~~oo0oo~~

This wasn't something I'd done before. I'd never gone without underwear for work. It felt... weird, if I was being honest. Good, but wrong. With the amount of photographers following me around over the last year or two, I'd tried to be careful what I wore in public; no controversial slogans on my T-shirts, no forgetting to do up my flies, that sort of thing. And no going commando either. That would get noticed and photographed and put up on web sites. Unbelievable. It did feel kind of freeing to be walking back towards the people and cameras like this though. Unrestricted, free. Actually the gentle rubbing of my jeans as I walked was... kind of nice.

_Hell. Better not think like that._

Bella was watching me as I approached, and the knowledge that she knew what I was wearing, or more to the point, not wearing, was just as stimulating as the sensations themselves. Of course, the knowledge that Pete, Jason, Alistair, that big hairy guy, and probably all the others knew, too, wasn't quite as stimulating. I walked straight past them all over to Alec and said, "Are we ready to go again?" He agreed, quickly going over the moves I needed to make with me to be sure I would be safe. Everyone else bustled about and got ready. Angela came over and reapplied some colour on my lips and brushed powder on my face before deciding I was ready. Whoever thought this job was masculine couldn't be more wrong. And then it was Bella's turn.

She walked up to me with hesitant steps, eyes cast to the ground and nervousness written all over her. I felt a huge pang of guilt. Had I made her feel like that by saying what I had? Did she not like men coming on to her, even in jest? I felt horrible, and all my ideas of ignoring her or befriending her (where the hell that idea had suddenly sprung from, I didn't know) disappeared in a wave of self-hatred. How could I have made her feel like that? How could I have done that to someone?

Then she slowly lifted her eyes up from the ground. With a lurch to my guts I realised that she didn't look nervous anymore, she looked... she looked... _Fucking hell, she looks hot!_ Her body language had shifted just enough that she had shed the demure posture and affected an unmistakably sensual one. Even through all the layers of thick outdoor clothes she was swathed in, I could see the difference. Her now decidedly wicked gaze didn't pass over the waist of my jeans on its way to meet mine. It lingered. I watched her eyes sweep up and down the short zip in the front of my jeans before stopping at the waist again. And holy hell, I felt it, too; the warmth of her gaze was a physical thing. Then she licked her lips.

_Holy fucking Christ._

Ignoring her, befriending her. There was now another option to consider: shagging her. _Right here, right now_. I barely contained the growl that started deep in my chest.

Slowly, as she approached to stand even closer, only a few inches from me, she finally raised her eyes, sweeping her scorching gaze across my chest, lingering on my mouth, before arriving at my eyes. At last. Looking at me_._

_Does she know what she's doing to me?_

_It must be deliberate. Mustn't it? Oh, God, please make it deliberate._

I wasn't breathing again. She just had that effect on me. She hadn't even touched me, and I was desperate for... more.

A tiny crooked smile, or was it a smirk, quirked at her lips, and I dropped my gaze to them, bewitched. _Right here, right now._

This was a different side to her again, one I hadn't seen before. She was a temptress in disguise!

Her hand twitched fractionally as if she was going to lift it and place it on me but she changed her mind. I looked back at her eyes again, hoping to read the intent in them.

_No! Don't change your mind. I want to feel that heat again._

Eye to eye, her look morphed into one of challenge and I was aware of a subtle shift in her posture again as she straightened her back and raised her chin. I was reminded of my earlier thoughts of whether Ms. Tyler would pay me back for the suggestion I had made. Was that what was going on here? Was she deliberately torturing me? The little head currently painfully constricted in my jeans was begging me not to think that, but my leading brain was forced to contemplate it.

Reading my damn thoughts on my face (_am I an actor or what?_) she raised her chin some more, stepped back a bit and asked calmly, "Having trouble dressing again, Mr. Masen? Perhaps you did need my help after all," before letting her gaze drop pointedly down to my waist. Fuck. My betrayer of a dick was practically standing to attention down there. There was no way she couldn't see that. A beautiful pink blush spread across her cheeks adding a disarming vulnerability to her cocky attitude. Yep, she saw that.

_Right here, right now. Please!_

I put my hand on the waist of my jeans, desperate to adjust myself. There was nothing in there to keep me contained, after all. And these jeans were low-waisted and...

Fuck.

I had forgotten to button them up.

I could feel the empty loop with my fingers. That was what she had seen as I walked over here; my state of undress, as well as my other state. Desperately, I checked the fly with my fingers. Yeah, that was done up okay. It was just the top button that was undone. _No big deal_. Quickly, I brought my other hand to my waist and, with fumbling fingers, fastened it and waited for her. Waited for what, I didn't know. I was clueless again.

"Well done," she congratulated me in her school-ma'am voice. "It wasn't that hard, was it?" And her gaze lowered again, sweeping over what I was sure she could quite clearly see was, in fact, very hard indeed. The pink blossomed in her cheeks again. Fuck, that was hot. Then she took another step back, smiled condescendingly at me, held her empty hand out towards me, and asked, "Coat?"

My hands moved of their own volition to once again grasp the edges of my security blanket of a coat and pull it tight around me. Tucking myself in, away from sight.

"...Um..." _Speechless, Masen, great._ Once again, she had rendered me incapable of breath, thought, or sound. I just gazed at her as she stood in front of me, her eyes holding mine. She had definitely won this round. The only problem was I wasn't entirely sure that we were actually playing. Or that I wanted to. My cock twitched. Yeah, _he _wanted to play, but I didn't think that _I_ would survive it.

My painful uncertainty must have been clear. As I watched, her bearing shifted again; her shoulders relaxed and her cocky, defiant demeanour slipped into something gentler looking. "They're ready for you, Mr. Masen," she reminded me. Her voice and eyes softened a little too, and I was surprised to see her hand reach forward and rest lightly, barely more than a brush, on my coat-covered arm. "Let me take the coat for you and then go show them what you can do." Surprisingly, after the last few minutes of high blood pressured tension, I found her voice to be calming, grounding, comforting. Drawing in a much needed breath, gasping actually, I managed to pull myself away from her bewitching power. It required a physical effort to do it. Glancing around at all the equipment and people surrounding us, the sights and sounds suddenly rushing back at me as though filling a vacuum. I suddenly remembered why we were here.

_Work. Right._

I let go of the tight grip I had on the coat, pulled it off, and handed it carefully to her. "Thank you," I said sincerely, looking into her unfathomable hazel eyes as I spoke. And then I turned and moved gratefully over to where I needed to be to start this scene again, desperately needing the physical space between us.

"Clear the set!" Jason called from behind me. From the corner of my eye, I saw Bella as she hurried away, out of shot, but most definitely not out of my mind. Who the hell was she, and how did she, in all her personas, affect me so much?

"Roll cameras... Action!"

And it was back to work again.

~~oo0oo~~

The afternoon was finally over. After jumping over walls, swinging from trees, and several other supposedly manly actions, we were finished outside and could head in for a break, a meal, and, in my case, a change of costume, before resuming work on an indoor scene this evening. I was exhausted.

Trudging back through the gathering dusk, I tried for the hundredth time to surreptitiously adjust myself in my jeans. Seriously, I was never doing this again. Not having the restrictive, tight sensation of wearing underwear was rather nice, the rubbing was enjoyable even, but when you were running, everything kind of flopped around in there, even in these jeans, and if you rubbed against the zipper, it got painful. I knew this first hand, let me tell you. I needed kissing better.

Added to this was the fact that even the thought of Ms. swan licking her lips in that way and I started to get hard. So I was more than ready to get back to my room, get these jeans off, get in the shower, and relieve some tension. I was hurrying through the halls of the house with this aim in mind when Alistair caught up with me.

"In a hurry?" he asked, an innocent look on his face. What was he up to?

"Er... yeah, just on my way to shower and change, you know?"

His face split into a huge grin. "I can guess! Enjoy your shower, my boy." He laughed before heading in the opposite direction, presumably towards his own room. He had to stop part way down the hall to lean on the wall. That's how hard he was laughing. Was he laughing at my... situation? I glared down the hall at his shaking, retreating figure. Yeah, he was._Git_. Was it that obvious to everyone how turned on I'd been this afternoon? I groaned. God knows what exactly the camera had managed to see then. I just hoped that the worst of it would end up on the cutting room floor.

The hot shower was a welcome relief to my cold, tired body, not to mention the stress relief I was able to undertake while in there, too. The day wasn't finished yet, and I needed to get my body back under control. God, that felt good. I tried really hard to think of any other woman but Bella while I stroked myself to completion, but I failed.

Twice.

God damn it.

I pulled my own clothes on once I was dry and reasonably sorted and went straight back down for dinner. I didn't want to sit and rest by myself for two reasons; one, I'd only end up thinking about her again, and look where that got me, and two, I was knackered, but needed to push through it. It wasn't the end of the day yet.

Everyone else must have had the same thoughts, well some of the same thoughts anyway, because the kitchen was full. I must have spent longer in the shower than I thought.

_Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. You were kind of busy._

I grabbed the first empty seat I came to. The mouth-watering smells of the food made me realise just how hungry I was. Conversation around the table was a lot more muted than it had been last night. Everyone was too busy eating to talk much. I served myself some of the soup that was out while looking longingly at the casserole and steaks that were steaming in their dishes. I decided to do what everyone else was doing; eat quickly and grab more while I could.

A laugh sounded from the end of the room where one of the catering crew stood watching us all in amusement. "There's plenty to go round, guys," she called, chuckling. "Don't panic. No one will go hungry!" The atmosphere in the room relaxed as everyone laughed in a rather embarrassed fashion and stopped looking quite so predatory about their plates of food.

"Long day out there," a deep voice said conversationally from beside me. I glanced at him. I didn't know his name. He was one of the riggers, I knew. I nodded and put my spoon down to offer him my hand in greeting.

"Yeah, it was. Not over yet, though." He took my hand, and we shook quickly, both of us wanting to get on with the important task of filling our stomachs with the hot food.

"Stu," he introduced himself. "We'll be indoors now though. That'll help." I nodded in agreement. This evening would at least be warm.

We talked some more about the days' work, with everyone around joining in. It was relaxed and comfortable, and it felt good to be able to kick back and chat. More work was to come, I knew, and people were already leaving the kitchen to get on with it, but this brief respite was welcome. As more and more people left and the overcrowded kitchen became emptier, I looked down the table to my right and was surprised to see that all the seats down this side of the table between me and Bella were now empty and we were sitting next to each other if you discounted the six empty seats between us.

She realised I was looking at her and turned her head to look back at me. Her eyes were wide, and I was quite sure that I read guilt and sorrow in them. Or was it my imagination? She cleared her face of expression quickly, looking down at her nearly empty plate before taking a deep breath and raising her head to look at me again. This time, she appeared to be appraising me, re-assessing me? I'm just guessing here, but her expression was definitely more open than I had ever seen it.

I liked it.

Swallowing and licking her lips nervously (yep, I liked that, too), she spoke in a tremulous voice; "I can bring your suit up to your room if you'd rather change there?" I had to refocus my errant brain sharply to realise that she was talking about the next scene. About work.

Suddenly nervous myself for some reason, I replied rather hoarsely, "No, it's okay. I'll come to your room. Save you taking it up the stairs." And that was the end of that stimulating conversation.

She seemed different. I frowned as I watched her, trying to put names to the fleeting emotions I could see in her eyes. I couldn't work out why she would suddenly be different. What had happened since I had last seen her? But then when the hell had I ever been able to understand her? The whole time here in this house she had been tying me up in knots with her contradicting personas. I frowned even harder; this was a reminder why it was a bad idea to even think about getting involved. It just complicated your life. I didn't need nor want complications.

She stood up from the table, looking nervously at me.

_What the hell was wrong with her now?_

_Oh yeah, I'd been frowning at her._

_Stupid pillock._

_It's not my fault I have an expressive face._

Her chair scraped across the stone floor as she pushed it back under the table neatly. A wince marred her features at the noisy intrusion, and she walked quickly towards the door, pausing momentarily just behind me to mutter, "I'll see you there in a few minutes then," before resuming her walk out of the room. I turned to watch her go, doing some re-assessing myself. I couldn't deny that I was physically attracted to her, not any more anyway, but it didn't change the fact that we worked together, had nothing in common and, oh yeah, with the exception of this afternoons little game, she quite clearly didn't like me.

I watched her move with a critical eye. Perhaps that was what I needed to do to get her out of my mind, some analytical thinking. She was quite tall, which I didn't really like in a woman. Her frame was rounded, not petite, which I preferred, she was brunette which wasn't my favourite colouring, and I couldn't really tell if her curves were just right or over generous. I needed to see more before I judged, I decided.

Judged. God. What a shallow prick I was. I lowered my head to the table and thumped against the solid surface a few times before plunging my hands into my hair and tugging wretchedly. I couldn't believe I had just sat here and ogled her like a cheap potential pick up. And not only that, but we were working together. This should be completely professional. I felt like an absolute sod. Raising my head I slumped back in my seat and sighed. Yesterday morning my life had been simple. I mourned my simple life.

Eventually, I knew I couldn't put it off any longer. I had to go and change, ready for the next scene. I only had a few lines, and it was all going to be relatively straight forward, I hoped.

With a sigh I headed down to the wardrobe room and entered, finding Bella standing near the clothing rails I was going to be changing behind. She turned when she heard me come in and smiled weakly at me. It was the first smile she had ever bestowed upon me, and although it wasn't exactly a megawatt, all out smile, the tentative movement made me feel like a million bucks. I felt my mood shift from dour and frustrated to light-hearted and... _oh fucking hell_... proud. Proud that I had put even that small, faltering smile on her face. _Oh God, here we go again_. Her witchy, spell casting was making me feel things I'd never felt before.

I couldn't stop myself from smiling back though, not that I really wanted to, and was rewarded with a light blush on her cheeks. I really liked it when she did that. Almost as much as I liked to see her blush when she was angry, and that was almost as much as I liked to see her blush when she was looking at my crotch. And maybe thinking wicked things?

_Imagination running away again. Get it together, Masen._

Whatever had caused her to lighten up on the cold stares, I decided I'd just be grateful for it and move along.

"Your suit is hanging up ready for you," she said in a soft, low voice, a slight edge of panic in her eyes. _What? Did she not mean to say that or something?_ "Just let me have a look at you when you're ready, check you over..." I nodded in response as she trailed off and I stepped around the rails, noticing that she moved away a few paces and to the side, to give me some privacy, I expected.

Behind the rails, I found one of the suits that I had tried on the previous night, together with shirt and shoes, waiting for me, and I began to undress.

I must admit, it felt strange now to take my clothes off knowing that she was standing only a few feet away. Even though she couldn't see me, I felt fully aware of her presence, much more so than I had yesterday when I was changing behind here.

And I swear I could feel that hot feeling on my skin again.

I shrugged it off though, bending to step into the trousers. I thought I heard a low moan from the other side of the rail, but decided I had imagined it. _That overactive imagination at work again, Masen._ Soon I was all finished, bar tweaking, which I was quite sure she was going to do, so I stepped out from behind the rails and walked over to Bella, who was holding onto the edge of the table with a white knuckled grip as she watched me approach.

_Get it together,_ I told myself. _We work together, be professional_. So I gave her my patented, won an award for it, seductive half-smile and said in a voice unconsciously low and husky, "I'm ready for you, Bella."

**Bella POV**

It was just one layer of fabric. Why should it make any difference?

Because it did. The lack of one single layer of finely knitted cotton jersey had me so twisted up in knots. I really needed to stop thinking about what Edward was, or rather was not, wearing. Honestly, half the guys here could be going commando. It was no big deal. Thoughtfully, I scanned all the other men in the vicinity, my eyes falling on a big guy whose name I didn't know. He was big, I mean, fat and hairy and well, just a bit ugly and did I mention fat? Now, he could be going commando...

I shuddered. Yes, that did the trick, all right.

But somehow knowing that Edward had been running round all afternoon with no underwear on was just so much more of a turn on. Thank God we were finished outside for the day because I couldn't take any more of it. I was not going through this again tomorrow. Tonight I was going to make him some low rise boxers to wear for the scenes tomorrow.

**~~oo0oo~~**

I was so glad to get to the kitchen and eat. I had never been so hungry. All that standing around in the cold really gave you an appetite, so despite the fact that the kitchen was full to capacity, I timidly joined everyone else around the table. This evening, instead of sitting where everyone had last night, it seemed all the women had gathered around one end of the table and a conversation was soon going on between us all. Well, between all the others anyway. I sat in my usual quiet, enjoying the food and the rest.

It was obvious when Edward entered the room, looking all flushed with damp hair as though he had just got out of the shower. The conversation at our end of the table stopped briefly and then restarted again, changing, not surprisingly, to the subject of Edward. I listened, but dreaded being persuaded to add my opinion. Yes, I thought he was gorgeous, sexy as hell, with amazing eyes, a beautiful voice, and legs and arse to die for, but he was a rude, conceited, arrogant, skirt chaser who I would never want anything to do with. Even if my body disagreed with me.

"...such a gentleman," Kate was saying to the others from where she sat on one side of me. "He probably thinks I did it on purpose. I bet girls throw themselves at him all the time." She giggled like a schoolgirl herself, and Jessica, sitting opposite us, went bright red for some reason. "Anyway, he caught me when I fell, and _that_ is something to tell my mates about when I get home. They are never going to believe me!"

Angela's eyes sparkled. "God, you're so lucky. I wouldn't mind being in his arms, I can tell you!" Amongst amused murmurs of agreement from all around, I turned to look at Kate, puzzled.

"You fell? When?" What was she on about?

"This morning," she replied cheerfully. "I dropped the damn spanner and lost my balance on the ladder. I fell right on top of him. It was lovely!"

I couldn't concentrate on eating. I placed my knife and fork neatly on my plate and moved my hands to my lap, fiddling anxiously with the hem of my jumper as I thought about what I had seen earlier today and how I had interpreted it. Kate must be talking about the time I had seen Edward with Kate pressed up against his body with his hands on her hips. Not pulling her towards him as I had thought, but catching her and preventing her from falling. A gentleman in fact, as she said. Okay, this was a new way of looking at it. But I had already had first-hand knowledge of the way he behaved, so it was no wonder that I hadn't looked for any other explanation, was it? I felt a little guilty though. Perhaps I should have given him the benefit of the doubt there. I contemplated this for a few minutes, picking my cutlery back up and starting to eat again, though my chewing was thoughtful.

Phil added to the conversation then, which it seemed, was still focusing on Edward, saying to the group in general, "He's such a nice guy, too. Alec was saying that Edward felt really guilty about what happened to his costumes, Bella," she added turning to me, "Alec feels guilty about it, too. He thinks it was his fault."

I was lost. "Er... why?"

"Well, he thinks that if he hadn't almost challenged Edward to try and walk over some really dodgy gravel, then Edward wouldn't have slipped over like that and spilt his coffee all over himself." She looked expectantly at me, waiting for me to absolve Alec of all guilt, which I managed to do with a stiff nod. She shifted her attention away again, apparently satisfied with my response.

_Oh shit. I made a mistake about that too. Could this get any worse?_

I put my knife and fork down again, my appetite vanishing. Jessica shifted uncomfortably in her seat and spoke quietly so that her voice wouldn't carry down the table too far, "I feel guilty, too. I mean, I can't believe I did that yesterday!" Angela, who obviously knew this story already, started to laugh as Jessica's slight blush deepened and spread. "Oh, shut up," Jessica muttered, glaring at Angela in mortification.

I looked at her anxiously. I had a bad feeling about this. The memory of Edward pressing Jessica up against the wall while he whispered into her ear played through my mind.

"What?" asked Phil and Kate in unison as we all leaned in closer to hear what Jessica was saying, "What did you do, girl?" No one wanted to know more than me.

"I... kindoffeltEdwardup..."

"What!" Everyone leaned in closer still as Angela laughed, trying to hide it behind her hand. Jessica just shrugged in embarrassment resignation, and Angela finished the story for her.

"She made a pass at Edward and accidently felt him up."

Everyone laughed and Jessica blushed an even deeper shade of red. "Shut up," she whispered fiercely, glancing down the table to see if anyone else had heard. "I'm so embarrassed. I mean, I don't know what came over me. He was just there and so yummy and gorgeous. I kind of, you know, asked if I could help him with anything..."

Kate snorted. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yes, what exactly were you planning on helping him with?" Angela joined in, trying to stifle her laughter, but not succeeding.

"Oh, shut it, you lot! It gets worse." She glanced down the table anxiously before continuing in a low voice, "I went to put my hands on his shoulders, but I was closer to him than I'd realised, so I rubbed his crotch when I moved my hand."

"What happened then?" Phil persisted, her eyes alight with laughter.

"How big was he?" asked Kate eagerly, followed by a loud chorus of, "Oh, Kate!" from everyone, drawing curious looks and smiles from the rest of the table.

"What? You were all thinking it!" she responded, a picture of wide eyed innocence.

Ignoring Kate, Jessica replied to Phil, "He was very nice about it, said he just wanted to work while he was here, not, you know, anything else. And he was so nice about it." Everyone else was still chortling as she finished pleadingly, "I apologised later, honestly!"

Everyone continued to eat and talk, merging into telling their own most embarrassing stories from other jobs they had worked on, but my mind was still reeling.

I hadn't joined in with the laughter. I hadn't reacted in any way, I didn't think. I was completely horrified at myself. What had I done?

I had treated Edward really badly as soon as we'd met because of what I thought I had seen, and now it turned out it wasn't what I'd thought it was at all. And the coffee spill had been an accident, not deliberate to piss me off as I had thought.

Oh, no. What had I done? The things I had said to him, the way I had behaved. My hands trembled as I gripped them together under the table.

_He was rude to you, too_, I reminded myself dredging up some defiance, but I knew full well that I had had no reason to behave so badly towards him.

I sat quietly at the table for longer than I would otherwise have done, thinking over everything that had happened yesterday and today. I looked down the table at him, laughing and talking with the crew, seeing him in a whole new light.

_But nothing has changed really_, I told myself_. He's still a superstar, and I'm still, well, just me_. The only thing different was that I now realised he was not quite as flawed a character in reality as I had thought.

A little bit closer to the fantasy man that I had fallen in love with in fact. Inconvenient.

I sat in my quiet thoughts, not realising that people were gradually leaving the table, until most of them had gone. Turning, I looked down the table towards where I knew Edward was sitting and was surprised to see that there was nothing but a handful of empty chairs between us. I studied his profile intently. Was I really so wrong about him? There were still all those newspaper stories about him. I felt a twinge of shame. How could I believe all that rubbish in those papers and magazines? Everyone here who actually knew him said that he was a great guy. Was I seriously going to believe all those gossip rags over these good people? I looked away but was compelled to look back again when he turned his head towards me and I felt his gaze on me. Our eyes met.

I saw confusion in his and no wonder, the way I had behaved towards him. And something else I couldn't identify. Something hot, burning. I didn't know what it was. I was just sorry that now I wouldn't get the chance to get to know him as well as I could have. I'd messed up big time. Sighing deeply and reminding myself that I needed to get on and do my job, I said to him, my quiet tone reaching him in the almost empty room, "I can bring your suit up to your room if you'd rather change there?" To my surprise he shook his head.

"No, it's okay. I'll come to your room. Save you taking it up the stairs."

Deciding that it would be best if I got out of there, I clumsily stood and walked out of the kitchen, pausing behind him and muttering, "I'll see you there in a few minutes then."

_Get yourself together and do your job_, I begged myself. But it didn't do any good. I had behaved shamefully. _What might things have been like today if I hadn't jumped to conclusions about him? Would it have made any difference? Might he have actually liked me? Probably not. He was still who he was, and I was still just me._ The memory of Edwards's cruel teasing from earlier on tugged at me, his hot breath caressing my ear, "_You know, I don't need any help getting undressed... unless you wanted to take my underwear off for me?"_

The memory of it made my toes curl. He had just been messing with me, not meaning it seriously, of course, but now, I was seeing his words in a new light. Rather than seeing them as making him out to be a womaniser, wanting to get into any woman's knickers, I saw the words as being playful, fun, non-threatening and light hearted. I didn't dare to let myself see them any other way; he couldn't possibly have meant it.

Walking down the dimly light corridor, I blushed as I remembered my payback for his joke. He'd made me angry enough to overcome reservations and to tease him mercilessly. And oh my God had it worked. I still couldn't believe that he had reacted to me like that; it must have been more to do with the physical aspects of what was happening. The no underwear thing was probably quite a turn on. Rubbing and such.

_Shit._

_Shittitity, shit shit._

I had messed up so badly. I had missed a whole day of getting to know the real man. A whole day of finding out if Real Edward was as wonderful as Fantasy Edward. Of finding out if it was true his favourite cereal was Corn Flakes and that he loved Disney films.

I had reached my room by now and automatically started to get everything ready for this evening's scenes. I switched the heater up as high as it would go, hung the Gucci dinner suit up for Edward, and picked out the shoes and socks I wanted him to wear. _Socks, not Scooby doo ones, not for this character_. They suited Edward though. I wondered what else about him I had missed. I would never have the opportunity to really get to know him again after this. Never have the opportunity to be this close.

_I'll make the most of the rest of the time here, just see what happens._

_What you want to happen isn't going to happen, girl._

_I wasn't talking about that._

_Just as well._

_Shut up._

I couldn't deny the sinking feeling inside when I faced the fact that all I would get of him would be to watch his life from the outside. Maybe, if I was lucky, we could work up to cordial small talk between scenes.

_Not exactly a night of steamy sex in his bed, but it'll do._

_Oh please, shut up._

I shook my head, trying to clear it of the distracting and impossible thoughts. As I swung around in the small space behind the rails, I brushed against the spare clothes hanging there and almost lost my balance. I grabbed hold of a couple of hangers to steady myself and then stepped back out into the room again_. God, I'm such a klutz._

I headed back over to the table to check what scenes we were going to be filming again, picking up the script and turning and leaning back against the table while I read. It didn't take long to go through; there were not many lines. Hopefully, everything would go quickly.

I glanced at my watch. Surely he would be here soon? My eyes rose from the watch face on my wrist, and I was startled to see a pair of eyes looking back at me. I started, shocked, not realising that someone else was in the room, too. Then I looked again. _What an idiot!_ There was no one in the room; I had seen my own reflection looking back at me from the little gilt framed mirror that I had placed in the changing area. When I had stumbled and grabbed the hangers, I must have pushed them along the rail, I realised, making a gap that I could see through.

Moving my head a couple of inches to the left, the gap closed, and all I could see was the back of a jacket. Back up straight again, and I could once again see myself in the mirror. I moved my head a couple of inches to the right. The line of sight was gone again, and all I could see was a black coat.

I smiled to myself. If someone wanted to set something like that up, it would take ages. I had managed it, completely accidently.

I stepped over to the rail and raised my hand to push the hangers back together again to close the gap.

And then I stopped.

_I could..._

_... just leave them?_

Of course I couldn't. That would be so unprofessional. There was no way I could spy on someone while they were changing. That was unethical and just plain perverted.

But still my hand hovered.

I remembered my thoughts from a few moments ago. _How often does an opportunity like this come along?_ Edward was going to be behind there. Edward Masen. My Fantasy Edward.

Still, I hesitated.

_Come on, this shouldn't be a hard decision. Just do the right thing like you always do._

I heard footsteps.

And I made a decision.

Right or wrong, and this was definitely wrong, I made a decision.

I dropped my hand back down from the rail without moving the hangers and turned to watch Edward enter the room and walk towards me. I couldn't help the smile that slipped over my face as I watched him walk. Such prowling grace.

He hesitated fractionally, probably wondering what I was smiling at him for all of a sudden, before continuing and coming to stand in front of me. His own lips twitched into a small, one-sided smile, and his eyes suddenly twinkled. Did he know what I had done? What I was doing? It was too late now to move the hangers back into place; it would be mortifyingly obvious what I had done. What I was planning to do. I felt my cheeks warm.

"Your suit is hanging up ready for you," I said, panicking inwardly when my eyes darted traitorously to the small space between the hangers. "Just let me have a look at you when you are ready, check you over..." Oh boy, was I planning on checking him over. My cheeks flushed a brilliant red as I thought this, and he nodded in acknowledgement and started to walk around the rails. Dropping my head, I stared resolutely at the floor at my feet. It was okay. I wasn't going to look.

My feet began to propel me backwards. Back to that one place where I had been standing a few minutes ago. It wasn't a conscious decision. I just... did it.

I wasn't going to look though. Of course I wasn't. Because that would just be wrong. So very wrong.

Slowly, my gaze moved from my feet and inched across the dusty parquet flooring until it reached the hems of the clothing on the rails. Sliding cautiously, guiltily, up towards shoulder height until... I saw nothing but the back of a black coat. I released the trapped air in my lungs. I was standing fractionally too far to the right. I couldn't see anything.

Relieved that I had not compromised myself or lowered my own morals so much, I allowed a small self-congratulatory smile to sit on my lips. And then the clothing moved slightly as he brushed against it on the other side, shifting the angles just a tiny amount.

The smile wiped from my face as my eyes flashed to that spot again, and this time, I was seeing through that slim corridor that ran at an angle between the clothing and revealed what was on the other side. I couldn't tear my eyes way. It was like Pandora's Box. Once opened, everything changed.

I could see just a narrow strip of Edwards's skin as he stood with his back to me, pulled his shirt off and leant forwards slightly to throw it across the chair. His skin was pale in the dim light, muscles moving beneath, causing a dance of light and dark to play across the narrow strip of flesh that I could see. He moved a little further into the dressing space, increasing the amount of his body that I could see. Could this get any better?

Yes.

It could.

His hands went to the front of his jeans, and he unbuttoned them quickly then moved his hands to his hips to push them down. He twisted slightly, and his elbow brushed the hanging clothing again causing the gap to swing closed, and my sight was once again decently blocked.

_Oh, you've got to be kidding me!_

I could hear the sounds of the jeans being pulled off. It was so frustrating, so near and yet, so far. I heard the sound of a hanger moving against the wall, the sounds of fabric brushing against fabric, and then the clothing moved again as he touched it.

He touched it with his backside as he bent over to step into the navy Gucci trousers. The narrow gap appeared again, this time made even wider by his beautiful arse pushing against the clothing.

_Oh. My. God._

Dark red boxer briefs hugged the tightest arse I'd ever seen. He was solid muscle, all right. Firmly defined glutes, rounded into strong, hard thighs dusted with dark hair and flexed so that I could see the corded muscles running down to his knees.

_I have got the best job in the world._

As he stepped into the trousers, his raised leg afforded a glimpse of the heavy forbidden treasure between his legs held snugly in his form fitting boxer briefs, and I couldn't repress the breathy groan that slipped from my throat.

I was such a pervert.

But I couldn't help it!

Straightening, he pulled the navy blue fabric up his legs and settled it around his hips, the movement bringing his body away from the hanging clothing, allowing them to fall almost closed again. There was still just a tiny gap, and it was almost anti-climactic to watch a narrow glimpse of Edward pulling on his shirt and tucking it into the waist of his trousers, sliding his hands inside his trousers and smoothing the shirt down his hips and around his tight backside. I almost groaned again at the thought of offering to help him do that. My palm itched to be where his was.

I really had to get control of myself. This slip, this aberration, couldn't happen again. We were working together. It was wrong. It was so unprofessional. I was so going to get fired. I gripped the edge of the table, trying to ground myself in reality. I had bills to pay, a reputation to build, a cat to feed. I couldn't get fired for spying on a man while he undressed. There was nothing else for it; I absolutely couldn't allow myself to indulge in these fantasies any more.

Not again.

Not ever.

No way.

At that moment, interrupting and completely blowing my decision out of the water, Edward walked out from behind the rails, adjusting his tie as he sauntered towards me. Dark, dark blue suit, crisp white shirt, each molding to his body like fabric sin.

_Oh shit._

_I'll take whatever I can get; it'll be worth getting fired._

Seeing my caught-in-the-headlights, white knuckled death grip on the table, he smiled the smile that had graced a million magazine covers, the smile that made women drop to their knees and beg for mercy. He smiled _that_ smile and offered in the sexiest voice imaginable, "I'm ready for you, Bella."

_Holy shit._


	12. Chapter 12

**Huge thanks to my Beta MyHubbyIsATwilightWidow for sorting out my appalling punctuation, to ChloeCougar for pre-reading and keeping me on track and to Iamamy for being wonderfully supportive.**

* * *

Edward POV

Walking quickly down the corridor towards the room we were shooting in tonight, I wondered about those words I had just said. "I'm ready for you, Bella." There had been no mistaking the momentary gleam in her eye as I had spoken, the widening of her eyes, the dilation of her pupils, a slight parting of her lips and... and this is going to sound crazy... a missed heartbeat. _How can I possibly think that I am so attuned to someone's heartbeat that I know when it skips? I don't have super hearing or anything, but I just felt it. I think._

What I didn't know was why I had said that.

Because in no way, shape, or form was I ready for her.

She had recovered herself, quicker than me to be honest, and stepped forward to reach up and adjust my tie, keeping her eyes lowered frustratingly from mine, fixed on the tie. But when she had tweaked the tie to her satisfaction, she stepped back again and raised her eyes to mine. I was beginning to really like it when she did that, and this time, the skipped heartbeat was mine.

_How does she do that to me?_

Blushing slightly and biting momentarily on her lower lip as her brow creased, she ran her eyes up and down me before clearing her face of expression and stepping back.

"You're ready to go, I think," she had said in that husky kind of voice that she sometimes has, wearing a ghost of a smile on her face. I think my knees went weak.

_What the fuck, Masen?_ _Are you a girl now?_

I hadn't been expecting that slight smile, and even that small flicker of friendliness sent shivers down my spine. I gave her a tentative smile in return, plunged my hands into my trouser pockets, and even shuffled my feet a bit, not knowing quite what else to say or do.

_Hell, what am I, twelve?_

"Let's go then," she said, and I was again weirdly torn between staying with her longer and getting the hell out of there. Thank fuck common sense prevailed. I turned awkwardly and made my way out of the room, walking quickly down the corridor to put some space between us. I felt that familiar and yet strange burning sensation on my back again as I walked. Weird.

As I entered the room set up for the evening's scenes, the burning on my skin receded, and I tried hard to pull my mind away from Bella and onto the job. Looking round, it was hard for a moment to see where exactly I was going to be needed. The room was crammed full of equipment and people. I hesitated, assessing the position of the lights and reflectors, and then made my way around all the equipment to the slightly clearer area waiting for me.

"Edward, great," Jason said, seeing me approach. "Let's have a quick run through and see if we can get this finished up quickly tonight."

I nodded and got to work.

.

Bella POV

I was going to write to Gucci and personally thank them. Edward looked devastatingly stunning in his made-to-order midnight navy 'Marseille' grosgrain, peak lapel, one button tuxedo with custom white dress-shirt and midnight navy tie.

_Oh dear God, this man is sex on legs._

A quick tweak of his tie, check him over...

_Keep it together, keep it professional._

...and I was finished. He looked, of course, perfect. "You're ready to go, I think." Was all I could manage. For which I was rewarded with a smile from him.

_Oh dear God, thank you._

He turned and walked out of the room ahead of me as we made our way down to the set to begin work, his shoulders slightly hunched, hands in pockets, long legs carrying him quickly.

_Don't look at his arse, don't look at his arse._

_Oh all right then, look._

So I did.

.

Edward POV

The run-throughs went quickly, the repositioning and final checks accomplished without any problems. In a few minutes we would start to shoot these couple of scenes and then, when we were finished, we could all relax for the rest of the evening or, in my case, collapse into bed in exhaustion. Thank God.

The problem though was that in the short space of time that we had all been crammed into this room, the temperature had started to rise. Lights, cameras, computers and electronics tended to do that in a small space. In the brief lull between run through and take, everyone began to take off layers of clothing until you'd think we were in Miami, Florida rather than Sudbury, England. I couldn't do that though, strip off that is, and I had to look coolly unaffected. Pity I couldn't get my sweat glands to comply.

_Christ, it's hot. What I wouldn't give to be back outside in the gardens now._

I watched as Pete roughly unbuttoned his flannel shirt and wafted it open, creating a breeze over his T-shirt-covered body. Lucky bastard. I couldn't wait to take off this jacket.

The script called for Liam to look 'darkly commanding' tonight, and I was dressed in a superbly tailored tux that was so dark blue it could be black. When I'd tried it on the day before, I'd had to look twice to check what colour it was. Wearing it now, I decided I actually really liked it and wouldn't mind ordering one of my own when this shoot was finished. I snorted to myself... _fuck, that sounded so Film Star!_ But I liked the idea of wearing something a little bit different at the next red carpet event I had to go to.

I usually never really took any notice of what I was wearing, but Bella's role and her obvious interest made me take more notice this evening. Well, all day to be honest. I thought about how uncomfortable those jeans had become earlier -and the reason why- and firmly brought my thoughts back to the here and now.

_Get it together, Masen. Work to do here._

I shoved my hands in the trouser pockets and shrugged my shoulders a bit. This tux; the cut really was amazing, and it fit really well, but of course it had been tailored for me, so it should do. It was a perk of the job that I decided I could start to really enjoy, though I would walk over hot coals before I admitted something like that to Alice. I let her choose all my stuff for me. She'd have conniptions if I suddenly started taking an interest and actually requested a particular designer.

Laughing to myself, I glanced at my reflection in a huge mirror hanging on the wall. I wasn't vain, far from it, but I did think that I looked good tonight. The dark wool jacket sat just right on my shoulders, emphasising my broadness, and it ran down smoothly into my waist, helping to show off my trim body that, quite frankly, nature had given me, rather than much hard work from me.

Time was not on my side though, I thought morosely, fiddling with the jacket button. More trips to the gym were in my future if I wanted to stay trim. Middle age was rapidly approaching.

_Pity party or what, Masen? Afraid of getting old? Worried about beer belly and saggy arse time?_

_Fuck off._

I glanced at the reflection of my arse tucked behind the tails of the jacket, twisting slightly for a better view. It might have been my imagination, but Bella seemed to like looking at it, so maybe it didn't look too bad.

_There's a single vent in this jacket, not used to wearing that. Does it show my arse off well? Or does my arse look too big because these trousers hug pretty snugly now that I look at them..._

"Edward, my boy, are you sure you're not gay? You seem quite taken with that pretty suit you're wearing," Alistair said as he walked up and flung an arm exuberantly around my shoulders. "Not that I blame you. If I looked like you, I'd flaunt it, too."

I flushed bright red. God, it'd been years since I'd blushed like that. But I had just been caught blatantly checking myself out. I hovered between masking my embarrassment with anger and laughing it off, but Alistair had caught me red-handed. He'd never let me forget it either. Laughter it was then.

"Piss off, Alistair," I said, grinning at him. "My character needs to look good, remember?" I met his eyes in the mirror and rolled mine in reaction to his laughing face. He was so enjoying himself. _Git._"But while you're here, make yourself useful." I decided to tease. "Does my arse look big in this?" I jokingly flipped up the back of the jacket to give him a better view and wiggled my arse just a bit_. Serves him right for taking the piss out of me._

His grip on my shoulders tightened a bit. "Edward, love, if you value your sanity, don't ask me that and don't, whatever you do, do that wiggle thing again. I might not be able to restrain myself." He was laughing, but, I noticed with amusement, still looking at my arse in the mirror. He leaned in a bit closer and said, "If I were thirty years younger, my boy, I'd take you up on that lovely offer." And smirking playfully at my stunned expression, he dropped his arm from my shoulder and actually patted my arse. _What the fuck!_ "Anyway, there's someone here who would not be happy with me, or you, if you took that lovely body elsewhere."

_That git, touching up my arse. I'll get him back. I'll put CK underwear adverts up everywhere; that'll get him drooling... wait... what?_

My laughter disappeared, and I met his gaze in the mirror again, frowning at him in puzzlement, startled enough to not respond to his humorous touching up of my arse.

_'Someone would not be happy'..._

_Who?_

"Who?" I asked him sharply, taking my now shocked looking eyes from his in the mirror and turning to look down into his mirthful grey ones. Did he mean Jessica? Because she had been interested, still was probably, despite our conversation last night. But my insides were not twisting at the thought of Jessica. Did he mean, could he mean ... possibly... but no. He couldn't. She didn't like me. At all.

_Why the hell do I care?_

_Shut up and listen, you prat._

Alistair looked steadily back at me, the laughter clearing from his face. He made no reply at first, just looked into my eyes, seeing what, I wondered? Confusion? _Hell yes, could you blame me?_ But had he seen that flare of something that might have been hope? I held my breath as I waited for his reply.

_Fuck, what am I on about? Hope? Are you kidding me?_

He patted me on the arm in an avuncular way, the friendly teasing gone now.

"Sometimes you need to look with your heart, my boy, and not your eyes. Don't let opportunities slip you by." He leaned in a little closer and lowered his voice as he continued seriously, "Don't be afraid to take chances, Edward. You don't want to have to live with regrets later."

I stayed frozen, breath still trapped in my lungs. _Was that it? Great advice, but what the hell?_

There was a sadness deep in his eyes that spoke of personal understanding, and I grabbed hold of my inner selfish prat and shoved him down, gradually releasing the air in my lungs I had been holding onto. This was heartfelt advice, sincerely given, and I was conscious of the trust he was placing in me by saying it. I felt like a git for thinking this, but my inner selfish prat was shouting that he didn't understand. Didn't know how the advice related to my circumstances now, and he wanted to know.

_Shut up. Alistair's obviously been hurt in the past and is trying to help._

_Yeah, but, help how? What is it I'm missing? What should I be taking a chance on?_

Before I could ask him to clarify what it was he thought I should be doing, he straightened up again and said professionally, "Get your make-up and costume fixed. These wretched lights are making us all wilt no matter how much I try. We'll be ready for Liam's entry scene by the time you've done that." And he gave me one last perfunctory pat on the arm before striding over to his control board, an unconscious sway to his hips as he stepped gracefully over cables and equipment before beginning to run through his electronics checks.

I stared after him in confusion. _What was that all about?_ I felt as though something monumental had just happened, and that if I didn't try and work it out now, I'd miss what it was and never understand it. But I didn't have time to think about it any longer. Angela had stepped up to me and was opening up her kit and pulling out powders and brushes and foam pad things.

_I'll think about it later. Got to concentrate now or I'll go mad._

So I submitted to Angela's ministrations, letting the character of Liam fill my mind, because his world was a hell of a lot less complicated a place to be right now than mine.

.

Bella POV

He was working incredibly hard. If I'd been asked to go over the same move again and again so that lights could be adjusted, I'd have been fuming. But he was taking it in his stride, listening to Jason as he directed his movements across the set, chatting comfortably with crewmembers as he waited patiently for everyone to be ready to do it again. And again. I enjoyed watching Edwards's films, but I'd never really considered how much hard work he must put into making them. I felt like a bit of an idiot as I thought about it. Fantasy Edward just appeared on the cinema screen, but Real Edward had to work hard to get there.

When Jason decided that everything was set up ready to go, we all grabbed a breather for a minute and tried to cool down. Edward moved to stand out of the direct light with its accompanying heat and stood, hands in pockets, shoulders slightly hunched again, gazing over towards the far wall, looking pensive. Was he worried about the scene? He took a hand out of the pocket and fiddled with the button on his jacket. I wondered what he was thinking about.

_Probably about how hot it is in here. It's what the rest of us are thinking._

_God, I've got to take this jumper off. I'm sweltering._

Remembering the complete idiot I'd made of myself the last time I took my jumper off in public, I sneaked out of the room to remove it. By the time I came back in, Angela was re-applying Edwards's makeup and it was time for me to do my job, too. Officially it was my responsibility to 'monitor the quality and continuity' of Edward's costume, and since I could tell he had been tugging on the tie again, that meant I had to help him re-adjust it. It was a hard life.

.

Edward POV

"Are you okay, Edward?" Angela asked as she worked at re-applying makeup to my face. "Are you not feeling well? You look a bit pale under all this."

Pale. Well, it wasn't anything to do with being felt up by a sixty-year-old gay man. I'd worked with Alistair on three projects now and knew that he was cheerfully touchy-feely with everyone, man and woman alike. It was just the way he was. I liked him as a friend, and now that I thought about it, a kind of mentor, too. He'd helped me a lot a couple of years ago when I didn't have a clue how to behave on a film set or what to do. So it wasn't his sexual orientation that I was concerned about, I'd never really given it much thought. It was the words he'd spoken to me so earnestly that were tormenting me.

_Don't let opportunities slip you by_. What opportunities? Because frankly, the opportunity to sleep with Jessica wasn't that unusual an occurrence, and I'd done all I was going to do at taking up those kinds of opportunities. What was it he thought I should know or be doing?

I was pretty sure that if I asked him, he wouldn't tell me. I got the definite impression that he thought it was one of those things where working it out for yourself was the whole point, but damn it, Alistair, bad timing or what? I had enough on my plate with these long days on top of a really long hard few months. I had to tackle the airport before I could finally get away on holiday. I hated stepping foot in an airport now because of all the photographers and clingy women who would materialise out of nowhere and try and grab me or photograph me as I walked through the terminal, sometimes nearly tripping me up. They all seemed to know my travel plans better than I did. And the people who would stare at me and photograph me as I went through security were worse. I hated having to put my personal possessions in a tray on display for them all to see, and taking my shoes off made me feel kind of vulnerable. It all felt so violating.

Never once had I snapped however, I thought with a tinge of pride. I always maintained a character whenever I had to go through that, pretending I was someone else and smiling for the cameras, signing a few autographs here and there and acting as if it didn't bother me. But I had a feeling that this time, I would be right on the edge. My stress levels would be right up, and I didn't know if I'd be able to maintain the fake character.

And to top off all that, I had this ... thing... with Bella. This connection, pull, whatever it was. I didn't know her from Eve, couldn't understand her attitude toward me, and yet felt compelled somehow to get closer to her, even though my brain was screaming at me to keep away. That couldn't be what Alistair had meant, could it? To not think about her with my head, but to think about her with my... heart?

_Oh, fuck this_. No way was my heart involved with this -whatever- with Bella. She was not the one elusive woman that I was looking for. I knew that for a fact, because the woman I was looking for to share my life with me would actually bloody like me.

Bella was some kind of witch creature. That was the only explanation for the feelings and emotions that churned inside me. She had some kind of magic that she had used on me to put me under a spell and make me feel so confused. I had never felt such a connection to such a contrary woman in my life before. But then, I had never met such a contrary woman before either.

_Magic spell?_

_Oh for fuck's sake. Stupid, sodding idiot._

I was going mad. An image from a Harry Potter film of Ron Weasley after he had inadvertently ingested a love potion swam tauntingly through my mind. Damn Alice, making me watch those films. There was no way I looked as sappy and stupid as Ron in those scenes, thank you very much.

"Edward, are you sure you're okay?" Angela was asking me worriedly. "You look a bit out of it."

"Just, you know, getting into character," I lied, not at all convincingly, putting all thoughts of fictional magic firmly behind me. There had to be a rational explanation. "Don't worry, Angela, I'm fine. Thanks for asking."

I smiled at her, my professional smile morphing into a genuine one when she raised an eyebrow at me and replied with a smirk, "Didn't know you were a fan of Harry Potter. Got a thing for girls in school uniform, have you?" She eyed me over the top of her glasses. My eyes widened as I struggled to control the rest of my face.

_Shit. Did I say any of that out loud?_

Angela was chuckling now as she patted more powder across my forehead and said, "I'm just kidding. You said 'fucking Ron Weasley' and looked like you wanted to strangle someone. Honestly, I'd love to know what _that_ was all about."

"Oh, you really wouldn't," I replied, itching to run my fingers through my hair, but knowing I couldn't. Angela had it slicked down and firmly controlled for once. Really, I had no control over any other part of myself at all anymore.

She patted me on the arm... _what is it with the arm patting_? and said, "Time to go. They're ready for you."

I looked round at the crammed full room for the first time in several minutes. I'd almost forgotten why we were here in the first place.

"Thanks, Ang." I took a deep breath and turned towards where I knew Bella was standing. I couldn't see her, she was behind a couple of reflectors, but I knew she was there. I sighed again. Perhaps I should just stop worrying about it and just accept it. It would be a lot less stressful.

~~ooOoo~~

It wasn't actually a small room we were working in, but when it was packed full with all the equipment and people, it became a lot smaller. And hot. As the evening progressed, everyone stripped down further to t-shirts as the lights threw out heat like a baking summer's day. I didn't get to cool off though. I was wearing the suit and tie the whole damn time, trying, if it's possible, not to sweat, but having to have my makeup touched up every few minutes by the end.

The collar of my shirt was now feeling way too tight, and I kept pulling on it, trying to loosen it. The waist of my trousers was digging into my hips, and I fiddled with the fastenings, longing for the time when I could go and take them off. Even my shoes felt hot and tight. And through it all, Bella was there constantly, fussing with my shirt and my jacket, even slapping my fingers away when I tried for the hundredth time to run them around the inside of my shirt collar, which admittedly would have ruined my makeup, but I didn't care. It was so damn hot!

It got even hotter when Bella was down to wearing her loose shirt open over the little skimpy vest thing she had on underneath. Holy hell, how was I supposed to concentrate on anything when she was waltzing around in that? I couldn't keep my eyes off her, greedily lapping up every glimpse of her figure, every graceful movement her body made. My mouth was alternately watering at the sight of her and draining dry whenever she came near me.

It's true. I dried up. I could think of nothing to say, could push no coherent sounds through my lips. It's bloody amazing I managed to say my lines at all.

Her face was shiny from the heat; little wisps of hair around her face were sticking to the dampness there. She was obviously tired; I could tell from the slight droop of her shoulders and the way that she rested her weight on one hip sometimes, resting the other side of her body the way that women do. I watched as she laughed quietly at something a couple of the riggers said to her. She seemed shy, avoiding eye contact with them, and almost seemed embarrassed to be joining in with their banter. She was edgy, not relaxed with them, but in a shy kind of way, not a frightened one. She had never acted shyly with me, I thought with a touch of smug pride, but she did seem to be shy around almost everybody else. For some reason, this thought process took me down the road of imagining Bella and I together, with me being the only person in the world that she would talk to, me being her protector, her friend, her lover.

_Whoa. Slow down there, boy._

_Well, it was just a dream. A guy can dream._

_I know you want that whole settle down thing, mate, but with her? Are you crazy? She's not what you're looking for, and don't forget: she hates you._

_Maybe not so much tonight._

I'd like to be able to say that this wasn't true, but confusingly it was. Her attitude towards me seemed to have changed into a professional yet casual one; one that involved actually looking at me when she spoke to me, a few smiles and even -fucking unbelievable- a couple of jokes. I didn't get it. Well, I got the jokes and laughed breathlessly with her, unable to believe what was happening. No, what I didn't get was the transformation. Her mood swings were giving me whiplash. She didn't seem like the same woman from earlier in the day.

.

Bella POV

I didn't think it was possible, but Edward really was even more beautiful in person than he was in all the pictures of him that I had seen. And do you know why? Because he was a beautiful person. Inside, I mean. He was working hard, was pleasant to everyone, didn't complain or fuss about the heat or the repetitive work; he was just damn nice all the time. How could I have been such a bitch to think otherwise?

_You really didn't get a good first impression of him though._

_You really didn't give him a chance either, did you?_

Damn it. I was such an idiot.

The heat generated in the room made Edward's brow a bit damp all the time; Angela had to keep running in and brushing powder and such on his face and neck. He kept fiddling with his collar, and I had to keep him from messing too much with his tie. I tried to appear friendlier towards him, hugely embarrassed by my unprofessional attitude throughout the day and trying desperately hard not to react to the heat from his body and the feel of his skin under my fingers when I couldn't prevent the contact. Perhaps, if I tried hard, he would forget how rudely I had behaved and we could finish out this shoot without any animosity.

I really hoped so.

It was too much to hope for anything more.

.

Edward POV

Not only did Bella seem to have changed, but I did, too, because I couldn't understand my previous reservations about her physical appearance. How could I ever have had any doubts that she was a beautiful woman? Every inch of her was lovely, and it didn't help that, as the evening went on, I could see more and more of her as she first removed her jumper, then rolled up the sleeves of her shirt, then unbuttoned it and left it open, the soft fabric swinging with her every movement. Should I have been worried that I knew that she rolled her right sleeve up first and then the left? That she had first unbuttoned the top three buttons and then, a few minutes later, the rest? Should I be worried that I now knew she bit her bottom lip when she was worried, twisted her clothes between her fingers when she was nervous, and held her breath when she was annoyed? Because I knew all those things. Watching someone will do that.

She had a little scar under her chin, pierced ears though she wore no jewellery in them, and a little collection of five freckles along her right collar bone. She had to be quite close to me for me to see those things, and close she had been. The heat made me fiddle with the costume or maybe it was nerves or maybe it kind-of-might-have been a bit deliberate.

Whenever she came near me to adjust pocket flaps I'd messed with or to straighten up the tie I'd habitually loosened, I felt not only the magical pull towards her, but also her warmth. The heat of her body touched mine as she leaned in closer, her warm breath caressed my neck as she stood on her toes to reach up and adjust my jacket collar. I couldn't be more aware of her and every movement she made or how my body reacted to hers. Several times, I'd had to suppress a groan and shift my weight so I could mask the physical signs of my attraction to her. I had to think of cold showers and ice baths and try desperately to force down the desire that was starting to wash through me.

It didn't help that sometimes she'd touch me. A brush of the back of her fingers against the burning skin of my neck as she adjusted my tie was nearly my undoing, sod whether there were a dozen people in the room along with three cameras. And every time she had reached up, the blue vest top she was wearing slid up her body just the tiniest bit, allowing a tiny sliver of pale skin to show above the top of her jeans. I ached to touch it, physically ached. I pulled my fingers into fists and shoved them into my pockets to prevent them from reaching forward and sliding over that forbidden area. Because forbidden it was. She didn't dress provocatively, didn't invite looks or touches, kept her body private and hidden away, and the snatches of skin were all the more erotic for it. I was beginning to really wish she felt the same for me.

.

Bella POV

If he didn't keep putting his hands in his pockets like that, I wouldn't keep thinking about it; about how the fabric stretched tighter and the zip strained, about the tantalizing shadows and bumps. I was pretty sure he dressed to the left, and I wished I'd thought to examine the trousers more closely last night to see if I could spot any extra room on one side of the centre seam or the other. A made-to-measure tux would be made to fit all parts of his body, after all, and men who were well endowed by their creator needed that little bit of extra room.

_Oh, good grief, can you not think about something else for once?_

_Well, no, actually._

_._

Edward POV

I'd managed to keep myself in check right 'til the end when I had to say the line. The one I'd been rehearsing without a second thought. The one that didn't mean a thing to me until I'd been trapped in that room with her, trapped in her bewitching company all day. The line where my character, Liam, looked back over his shoulder at his girlfriend as he left the room and said that when he got back home he wanted to fuck her into the middle of next week.

When I turned my head to say that line, Bella was right in my line of vision. I don't know whether I was thinking as Liam or as myself when I said it, but Bella's eyes were wide, and she grabbed onto the back of a chair for support as our eyes locked and I spoke those words directly to her. My body was bursting at the seams with sexual tension. I'd never been so wound up in my life.

Jason had let the seconds hang on and on, the tension inside me building even further, and I'm not sure what my expression was exactly, but when he called, "Cut!" Pete, standing by Bella's side muttered, "Fuck me." And then grinned a huge grin. "Well done, Edward. That'll have them flocking to the cinema."

There were chuckles and murmurs of agreement from all round, and I kind of felt like I was coming back down to earth. I glanced around and several people had flushed expressions on their faces, Angela in particular. I gave her a lopsided grin as she came forward with yet more powder and asked, "Will that do, do you think?"

She gave a shaky laugh and replied, putting her hand on her heart as if to hold it in place, "Yes, yes, I think so," before shaking her head as if clearing thoughts from it regretfully and turning to look behind her. "That was great, wasn't it, Bella?"

But before I could switch my attention back to Bella where it wanted to be, Jason was calling, "Hold positions, we're going to get some different angles." And I did the move and said the line several more times, but now, Bella was nowhere to be seen. She'd left the room. I held her image in my mind though. In fact, I was pretty sure the look on her face was one I would never forget. And it was no acting ability that put the burn of desire on my face or the heat in my eyes or the promise in my voice. That was all her.

.

Bella POV

Holy shit, could that man act. My knees were actually trembling from the intensity of it.

The deep voice, husky and desire-roughened, the way he had dipped his head and looked up through his eyelashes, his narrowed eyes filled with scorching heat, the restrained power quivering in every muscle throughout his body. The _promise_ of it all.

Holy shit.

What I wouldn't give for that to be real.

.

Edward POV

"And cut! That was great, Edward. We'll call it a wrap for tonight, guys."

Jasons's words were a relief to everyone. It had been a hell of a long day. Whatever twist of fate that had put Bella into my line of sight didn't know what it was messing with. Lauren, my co-star's not being available until Saturday wasn't such a big deal with the wonders of ADR and an excellent editor, but I had been prepared to say the lines to a blank space. Seeing Bella standing just off camera had been fate having a great big laugh. Right in that moment, after the build-up and the tension and the fucking 'pull' between us, I had meant every single word.

Pete was looking smug, and even Jason looked pleased with how things had gone. It had felt pretty intense to me, that was for sure, and I wasn't positive I wanted to see how it had looked. But my professional head prevailed, and I wandered over to the small monitor and leaned down over Jason's shoulder to see. And froze in shock.

That couldn't be how I had reacted to Bella could it? I looked almost feral, like a possessive animal or something. I could almost see 'My Woman' blazing across my face.

"Good job, Edward," said Pete, practically rubbing his hands together with satisfaction. "You've really given Liam an edge there."

Yeah, that had been me as the character Liam, hadn't it? Not me, reacting to Bella.

_Christ, that can't have been me._

But deny it all I tried, I knew the truth. That was all me. And fucking hell, that was terrifying. I felt like a great cliff had suddenly appeared before me, and I was balancing right on the edge of it. I wasn't seriously thinking of her in that way, was I? Mentally, I threw on the brakes and backed the fuck away from that edge. No way was I taking that plunge. No way. She was _not_ the woman for me. Justin's earlier advice hovered insidiously around me wanting to be heard, but I refused to think about it now.

_We work together. It's unprofessional to even be thinking about her like that._

_Bit sodding late, mate._

_And I really do prefer blondes. Really. And... she just isn't my type._

_You can tell yourself that._

_Fuck. Off._

Even thinking about pursuing her didn't feel right. She was so far removed from the type of woman I usually chose to date that I couldn't believe I was even contemplating it. All I knew about her was that she could be stern and cold and shy and nervous and she wore hideous jumpers and didn't like me very much. That wasn't someone I would choose to spend time with, was it?

_Bloody hell, I can't ignore this pull I feel, I just can't._

The mysterious 'pull', the heat of her touch and the way my body now seemed to respond to her mere presence were too much to dismiss I knew that now. I didn't understand how these feelings could be real but I was pretty sure they were, I just didn't understand why. She wasn't my perfect woman, far, far from it, but for some reason I wanted her anyway.

It was scary as fuck.

Hastily, I strode down the corridor towards Wardrobe, more than eager to get this suit off, get into my own clothes, and escape upstairs. I needed a Plan. Striding across the room towards the changing area, my feet beat a rhythm on the solid wood floor; (..._I don't understand... I don't understand_...) I stripped out of the expensive clothes with relief, felt immensely guilty about leaving such a limp, sweat saturated shirt for Bella to deal with, dressed as quickly as I could back into my jeans and t-shirt, and strode purposefully back out into the corridor again. (..._I need a Plan... I need a Plan_...)

I needed to work out what the hell was wrong with me.

Music was drifting down the corridor from the main room, and I remembered Jessica saying that she had organised entertainment for the evening. Despite my exhaustion, unwinding and having a beer or two suddenly seemed a lot better an idea than brooding in my room unable to sleep, so I shoved my hands in my pockets and headed down towards the light, noise, and booze, knowing full well that Bella wouldn't be anywhere near it. Which was just what I wanted. I needed to think.

This had been, without a shadow of a doubt, the longest day of my life. And there were three more to go. It was going to kill me. She was going to kill me.

.

Bella POV

I slipped into the scullery intent on collecting my baby that I had left there to dry. There it was, looking all forlorn where I had left it. I pulled it down from the hanging rail and looked closely at it. I was pretty sure, even in this poor lighting, that I could see a large faint brown stain in the centre of the chest. I smiled ruefully. Really it didn't matter. It was just one more thing to remember this time by. I had thought about slipping one of the Polaroids I had taken of Edward wearing my baby in my bag, too, but that would be a direct violation of my contract, and I was too scared to try that.

It didn't say anything about T-shirts though.

Folding the fabric carefully and tucking it into the kit bag I still wore around my waist, I headed back out of the dimly lit scullery towards the main corridor.

The sounds of music and laughter drifted down the corridor from the main room where, true to her word, Jessica had set up a karaoke evening complete with bar and a table groaning under the weight of junk food and snacks. I didn't know whether or not it was true that an army marched on its stomach, but a film crew certainly did. I had peeked around the door a few minutes ago out of curiosity, but there was no way I was going to be joining in. I couldn't think of anything worse than being forced to sing in front of a whole bunch of people. Besides, I still had work to do. I had to make Edward some new underwear.


	13. Chapter 13

**Huge thanks to my Beta MyHubbyIsATwilightWidow for sorting out my awful punctuation, to ChloeCougar for pre-reading and keeping me on track, to Iamamy for being wonderfully supportive and to my Twilighted Beta Tima83 for all her work.**

**A/N: This is a shorter chapter, but I'll bet Edward wishes is was shorter still!**

* * *

**Edward POV**

Half an hour of karaoke and two beers had not been the magical panacea that I'd hoped they'd be. I was so tired. So really tired. I just wanted to go to bed and sleep. But I knew that sleep would not come easily until I had thought things through and come up with a Plan.

I think I was attracted to someone. Someone who was most definitely not attracted to me. At least I didn't think so. I fiddled morosely with the bottle of beer in my hands. This was kind of a new situation for me. What the hell should I do about it? If I wanted to pursue her, I'd have to do all the work. And would probably get rejected anyway. Quite forcefully. Was it worth the effort and the inevitable humiliation and pain? Because let's face it, she wasn't right for me. What little I knew about her made her the opposite of what I would normally choose, regardless of the fact that my body was shouting at me to turn my brain off for once and just go with it.

I groaned and sunk my face into my hands, elbows braced on my knees. The bottle I was still holding thunked heavily against my cheek bone. Great, now I'd have a bruise.

A slim body gracefully folded itself down onto the squashy sofa next to me and sighed contentedly.

"Hey, Angela," I acknowledged after a swift glance through my fingers at her. "You okay?"

"Just so, so tired," she replied, half groaning, half laughing. "I can't believe we're all here doing this now instead of sleeping!" She gestured to the other side of the room where a couple of the guys were laughing their way through a song. They were so bad at it I had no idea what song it was.

I lifted my face from my hands and settled back into the sofa cushions next to her. "You know, you're the one who's doing most of the singing, Ang. If you stopped, everyone else would probably stop, too."

"Yeah, but I love karaoke." She smiled impishly at me as she turned to face me, pulling one knee up onto the sofa as she did so. "I notice you haven't joined in?" Damn right, I hadn't.

"Not much of a singing voice," I answered, shrugging and hoping she'd let it drop. I didn't feel much like joining in with anything tonight. I had problems to sort out.

"Ang can't sing either, but apparently she doesn't let that stop her!" said Kate, appearing on my other side and dropping onto the accommodating sofa, too. "What's up, Edward?" she asked, peering at me closely. "You look like a wet weekend."

I turned and looked at her. She was watching me with a friendly enough smile, waiting for a reply. Suddenly, it seemed like a good idea to actually tell her. Maybe I could get some womanly advice on what I should do next. Bella was a woman, after all; they might be able to shed some light on her contradictory behaviour, let me know if maybe she did like me a little bit. I looked round at Angela. She also seemed predisposed to be helpful, so maybe I could ask a few questions. Just hypothetical ones, of course. No way did I want anyone to know I was thinking about Bella.

"What's going on, guys?" asked Phil as she and Jessica sat themselves down on the coffee table in front of us. "Had enough singing for tonight, Ang?" she teased.

Jessica took a pull from her can of coke before adding, "You all look very serious over here. Is something going on?"

Before I could reply, Kate interjected, "Edward's thinking about something."

"Oh." They both nodded in understanding. I wished I understood.

Four pair of female eyes looked at me expectantly. I'm not sure if it was the tiredness or the beer, since I'd only had two and I was still nursing the second one of those, but the presence of these friendly women didn't worry me. I felt comfortable, comforted somehow, and just plain ready to spill my guts out. Well, except for mentioning her name, of course. No one must know about that.

"Is it about Bella?" asked Phil conversationally. I gaped at her for a moment, my head spinning. I hadn't said anything out loud again, had I?

I stammered out a denial that in no way denied anything. Damn it. "How... why... what makes you think that I think... because that's... I mean, I don't...?" The four of them all looked at each other with knowing expressions before returning their gazes innocently back to me. Perfectly choreographed. How do women do that?

"Why don't you tell us what you are thinking about then?" murmured Angela soothingly. "Perhaps we can help." They all nodded encouragingly, and God damn it if I didn't find myself telling them my thoughts. It's sodding witchcraft around here, I'm telling you.

The coven of possible witches all leaned closer and listened intently as I just blurted out whatever was on my mind. All of it. Well, apart from her name, because I at least had enough sense not to let that secret slip through my lips. Even though it seemed as though it wasn't exactly a secret anyway.

"It's just that I don't really know what I want anymore. Well, I know what I want, what I should want, but sometimes things happen that are confusing, you know, and then what I want doesn't seem right?" They nodded and hummed understandingly.

_They were understanding this shit?_

I ploughed on. "I just want to meet someone, someone special, and I know what that someone will be like, I just can't seem to ever find her. Though lately, I haven't even bothered looking because, well, it kind of went really badly for me last time, so I don't want to try again, which is why I don't want to make a mistake now and do what is wrong just because it kind of feels really right. Kind of." Again, a gentle barrage of understanding smiles and murmurs. I could get used to this. "So perhaps you could tell me what you think?" I finished hesitantly.

"What would you like to know, Edward?" asked Kate kindly.

I tried to get my thoughts arranged a little more coherently. "Well, mainly, I suppose, why is it that even though I know what I want, I'm ... I mean, I could ... find myself attracted to something else? And I just don't get it. How can I, I mean, could I be attracted to the opposite of what I want?"

"Let me get this straight," said Kate. "You're talking about women here; you're looking for a relationship?"

"Yeah." Wasn't that what I had been saying? I thought they were listening?

"Okay. So what is it you think you are looking for?" asked Phil matter-of-factly.

This was easy. I knew the answer to this one. "I'm looking for someone to share my life with. Someone who loves me and supports me and is there beside me, helping me." Oh God, what I wouldn't do to have someone beside me when I had to tackle crowds, give interviews, and travel all over the place. I longed for it.

"So the relationships that didn't work out, what went wrong with them?" continued Angela, her head on one side, her eyes full of compassion. Girls must learn this shit at school.

"Well, the last one hardly counts anyway," I muttered, taking a swig of my now warm beer.

"Why not?" pressed Angela.

"Well, it was with Tia Peters, and I think everyone knows how that turned out," I stated bitterly, the lies she had sold the newspapers still lingering in my mind, the betrayal still burning.

There were murmurs of agreement from around me as obviously everyone else remembered the stories, too, before Phil added, "You've seen other women since then though, so what about them?"

"What other women?"

"Well, I mean, you must have, er, dated a bit, or whatever..." she shrugged awkwardly as she finished, and I sighed; I was being questioned about my sex life by four women I was working with. Was this how I ever thought my day would end up?

"No. No. That kind of put me off for a while," I muttered, shifting uncomfortably on the sofa, not meeting their eyes. My lack of recent sex was not something I wanted to discuss; it was between me and my right hand.

"Okay. Well, tell us about the women before her then. When you ask a woman out, what draws you to them?" asked Angela. I thought about it, looking for the reason for the question. It seemed like a pretty obvious question to me. What the hell did they think drew me to them? I thought about how to phrase it diplomatically.

"Well, erm, their figures, I suppose, and their colouring and what kind of clothes they wear... the usual things." I sensed a slight cooling of the air around me. Someone must have opened a window.

"What colour hair did your last date have, Edward?" asked Angela, her voice a fraction more brittle than it had been before.

"Dark blonde," I replied. "It was..."

"And the date before that?" interrupted Phil.

"Er, blonde. Lighter though, her mum was Swedish..."

"And the one before that?" pressed Angela, her voice decidedly less understanding than before. What was going on?

"She was blonde, okay?"

"Got a thing for blondes, have you?" she asked, sitting stiffly amongst the sofa cushions, waiting for my answer.

"Yeah, I guess I do. Even in school, I always used to prefer the good looking blonde girls..." I trailed off helplessly as an icy silence pressed in around me. I was actually a bit scared.

"So that's what you're still looking for now then, is it?" asked Jessica, her voice a bit cold now, too.

"Well, yeah. My perfect woman is out there somewhere. I do believe that. I just haven't found her yet."

The four of them glanced meaningfully at each other before apparently coming to a decision.

Phil spoke up next, her voice so obviously trying to sound casual as she twirled the almost empty Sprite bottle she held between her fingers. "So did you like all of them, these blondes that you dated?"

I felt relief that we had now dropped the 'blonde' conversation. That hadn't seemed to go too well for me for some reason. Eagerly, I replied, "God, no! Some were awful! I've ended up with empty headed idiots and manipulative vixens, the whole lot." It really did seem I was unlucky with women. I just couldn't understand where I kept going wrong. I was interested to see where this conversation was going; they seemed to have a purpose now. Perhaps they could help me get over this, whatever, with Bella and show me how to find the woman I was looking for. And yeah, she'd probably be blonde. So what? I tuned back into the conversation around me, realising that I had missed something. The conversation didn't seem quite as casual as it had a few minutes ago. In fact, I think they were all glaring at me. I thought back to the last piece of conversation I could remember so I could participate again. They had seemed to take exception to my preference for blondes for some reason.

"What?" I asked them. "So I like blondes. So what?"

The frosty air turned, if possible, even colder. The four women looked at each other again and, without a single spoken word, had an entire conversation between themselves. How _did_ women do that?

Then they turned and, as one, looked at me expectantly. _What? Did they expect me to have understood all that? _Obviously, they did.

I took a deep breath, preparing to dive into the unknown. "Look girls..." I began, feeling the exhaustion settling on me again like a heavy blanket, but pausing my thoughts when all four of them raised their brows at me, displeased. Okay. I did something wrong there. "Ladies?" I amended tentatively; no negative reaction, better. "I'm a guy, okay?" I continued. Jessica giggled, which I manfully ignored. "You're going to have to explain it to me. In actual words. I don't get this whole 'silent conversation' thing that you have going on here." I sounded a bit pleading towards the end. _Pathetic._

Phil sighed and then spoke for the four of them. "Well, Edward, basically, you're a bit of a prat."

_Er... what?_

"You'll need to explain in a bit more detail than that," I spluttered through a mouthful of beer that I had foolishly decided to drink at the wrong moment.

"You're an idiot," said Angela, helpfully thumping me on the back as I choked.

"A wanker," added Jessica, nodding.

"Yeah, a right douchebag," concluded Phil.

_Okay..._

I must have looked as pathetically confused as I felt because Angela asked disbelievingly, "You don't get it, do you?"

I grasped at this offered rope with both hands and shook my head vehemently. "No. No, I don't. What am I doing wrong?"

The four of them inched closer, about, it seemed, to finally impart their womanly wisdom to me. If Alice ever heard about this, she would kill me. I never listened to her. Could be why I was in this predicament, I suppose.

"When you imagine your perfect woman, Edward, the one that you say you are looking for, what do you imagine? I'm not asking for specifics, just in general."

I frowned. This didn't seem like deep, dark, womanly secrets, but if that was what they were asking me for...

"Well, hair colour first, I suppose. I've always liked blondes..."

"No specifics! So hair colour. What else?"

"Well," I thought about it. What was it I was looking for? Why had I never asked myself this before? "Height and size, I suppose, to start with and ... whether she dresses well and ..." I stopped. All four of them were glaring at me. It was scary. I instinctively shifted the bottle in my hands and moved to cover my balls; it looked like they might be in danger.

"So what you're saying is that any blonde woman who is the right height and build and who dresses well is your dream woman?" Angela asked sharply.

"Well, no. Obviously not," I protested, "And I don't exclusively date blondes, and you make it sound like I have a type..."

"You do."

"Which I don't," I continued, glaring at Phil who had interrupted. "It's just a preference, that's all."

"So a woman who fit that description would do, whether she had the IQ of a goldfish or a rocket scientist?"

_Er..._

"And whether she was a cold, selfish woman or a warm-hearted, generous one?"

_Er..._

"Whether or not she could make you laugh?"

"Whether holding her hand made you feel like you were coming home or want to run away?"

"Whether or not a single glance from her could set you on fire or leave you wanting?"

They paused, looking expectantly at me. How the hell had I let this conversation happen? _Never, never, never try and talk feelings with a bunch of women again,_ I vowed to myself. _They just end up telling you what a pathetic tosser you are._ Yeah. I could see where they were going with this, and I got the impression that it was now time for me to contribute.

"Okay. I admit that all of that is important, too. Are you saying that it seems like I don't think that?" I really wasn't that much of a prat. Was I?

"Edward," Phil sounded exasperated, "we're saying that it is _more_ important. And continuing to look for physical perfection is shallow and ultimately self-destructive." She sighed and leaned forward, placing her hand on my arm and looking earnestly at me. "When you find someone..." she began quietly.

"The right someone..." continued Kate.

"The someone that you can't stop thinking about..."

"The someone who makes your heart pound..."

"Your insides clench..."

"The someone who makes you burn," they all contributed consecutively, the same earnest expressions on their faces.

"Then they are perfect," finished Phil, "whether or not they are blonde or brunette, tall or short." Christ, had they been practicing this?

"So..." I began. I wasn't stupid; I could see what they were telling me. They held their collective breaths, waiting for something, me unfortunately. "What you are saying is," I continued, "that I'm a shallow prick who needs to learn to ignore what is on the outside and get to know what a woman is like on the inside?"

Four breaths were released as one as they all beamed at me.

"My God, I think he's got it!" cried Phil. Thoughts of Professor Higgins flooded my mind, and I felt a momentary glow of pride. No, wait. That made me Eliza Doolittle, didn't it? Frowning, I thought about this unexpected conversation. Their comments were not without merit, and with a twinge of unease, I realised that perhaps there was more than an element of truth to them. What was wrong with me? It was true I'd usually looked for a certain type of woman, never really tried to get to know any others; I thought I knew what it was I wanted and so I only looked for that. But weren't all guys the same? Superficial appearances were what all guys used, weren't they?

I decided that retreat was the best I could manage right now, so I slowly stood up and looked around at them all, four friendly women looking so pleased with themselves. "Thanks, ladies," I said. "You've given me a lot to think about. I really appreciate it." They beamed even harder. It was kind of nice actually. "I'm going to fall asleep where I stand if I don't go now," I joked. "I'll see you all tomorrow, I expect," I added as I turned towards the door.

"Sweet dreams, Edward," called Kate, and I left with my dignity intact as they snickered behind me. Well, mostly intact anyway. It had just been rather painfully pointed out to me that I was an idiot.

As I walked tiredly away, my feet dragging as I hunched into myself, I felt faint stirrings of something surprising. I think it was, well fuck, I don't know but if I had to name it, I'd call it joy. Frowning as I automatically made my way up the stairs I considered this, examining the little flame of 'joy' carefully. As I reached the top of the stairs I finally got it; I understood what that flame was doing inside me. I smiled, pulling myself taller, feeling a need to stick out my chest and revel in the warmth of that flame. I had come to the realisation that since I had got past my preconceived ideas about what my perfect woman was like, that meant that there was no reason why Bella should not be her. I smiled even wider. This was brilliant. This was perfect in fact. Because, for some wacked out reason that I couldn't explain, I knew I liked her.

I stopped walking again needing, it seemed, to devote more brain cells to this thought. I liked her. And it was okay. It was okay to like her.

The flame in my chest glowed again, like it had now been given permission to be there and it felt good. There was just one thing nagging at it.

The fact that _she_ didn't like _me_.

_Well bollocks._

Just when I thought everything was going to be all fairy-tale-happy-shit I had to go and remember that this feeling I had for her was one sided.

_Fucking bollocks._

_Now what am I going to do?_

I hesitated outside my bedroom door, as if I couldn't enter without making a decision of some sorts. I could try and ignore what I felt when I was near her; hell, it was only three more days, I could just grit my teeth, get through it and then never have to see her again. Back to my normal life. I didn't like the way I felt when I thought that. Or, I thought with more determination, I could find out if she did hate me and if so why. Then, maybe, I could do something about it. She hadn't been as hostile towards me this evening. In fact, I had seen hints that... no, it was too much to hope for. But if she did like me, too...

_Jesus, Edward you sound like a school girl._

I threw open the wide bedroom door, stepping into my temporary sanctuary gladly. I needed to get a male point of view of all this, and I needed it now. I also needed a Plan. I grinned. Project 'Find Out if Bella Actually Likes Me' was about to be born.

.

~~ooOoo~~

.

"Let me guess." Emmett's voice boomed down the phone a short while later, "She's short, blonde, and skinny with tiny tits, right?"

"...Er..." Why had I decided that Emmett's point of view was the one I wanted again? I was too tired to deal with his massive personality right now. I glanced around my bedroom, looking for, I don't know, something to distract him with. And we'd only been talking two minutes. He'd been surprised but keen when I called him and told him I wanted to talk to him about something. His silence when I'd said I was having trouble with a woman had been embarrassing. I could almost see him preening himself with pride at the realisation that I was asking him for advice about my love life. Yeah, it had definitely been a bad idea.

"She is!" he said in self-satisfaction. "You're so predictable, man. I can never get the tiny tits thing myself. I mean, God put them there for a reason, and it's none of this babies shit, I can tell you. There's nothing wrong with a handful, Ed. You should try it sometime... Ed?... Ed, man, you still there?"

I sighed and sank onto the bed in defeat. Just get it over with. It couldn't get any worse than getting an earful from a whole bunch of women I barely knew.

_This has not been my night._

And they had kind of had a point I had to admit. "Yeah," I responded to Em's prompting. "I'm here."

"Thought I'd lost you for a minute. So who is she? Is this a quick dip or are you planning on seeing her again after the filming's over?"

I thought back over what he'd just said, fastening onto what seems to have been a recurring theme tonight. "Why did you think she was blonde?" I asked him. I seriously hadn't been that single tracked, had I?

"Why? Ed, you always pick the blondes, passing up a lot of opportunities if you ask me, but it's your loss."

"I don't always go for blondes," I protested weakly, but I was now realising that I had actually been just that shallow.

"Well, okay. Maybe not always, but most of the time. That's just your type."

"I don't have a type." At least I hadn't realised that I had.

"Sure you do. Like I said, short, skinny with ti..."

"Emmett. I do not. Have. A type." At least I didn't want to have any more because if I did, then Bella wasn't it, and now I wanted her to be. Damn it.

"Are you okay, Ed? You sound pretty stressed." He'd taken his personality down a few notches, realising now, perhaps, that I wasn't calling to gloat over some quick lay but needed some sort of help.

"I was a lot less stressed before I started talking to you," I said bitterly sitting down on the bed to pull my trainers off. "I'm just having some issues with someone. It'll be fine. Don't worry about it." I was doing quite enough worrying on my own.

"So am I right in presuming that this someone is a woman?" he queried, his voice dropping to a more comfortable volume and tone. Now that was why I'd called him.

"Yeah."

"And you and she are..."

"No!" I jumped up from the bed again and began pacing around the room. "Fuck, no. We're not. Definitely not. No way. And not going to happen. Probably." Yeah, I know, protesting way too much. I sunk back onto the edge of the bed again in defeat. She was killing me.

"Ooookay. But she's blonde, right?"

"Will you shut the fuck up about her being blonde?" I threw the trainer I'd just pulled off across the room, hearing the satisfying 'whump' as it hit the cushions on the armchair. "No, she isn't. She's a brunette, and she's not short, and she's not skinny, and she has a good handful. Happy now?"

"Ooookay. So... what's the problem exactly?" He sounded confused. Not sodding surprising considering how confused I was.

"Christ, Emmett, I don't know. You're married; you're supposed to be the expert on women. How the hell should I know what's going on?" I was up and pacing again, one leg longer than the other now that I only had one trainer on. "She's not my type, not that I have a type, but she's not it if I had one. She's driving me crazy. All prim and proper telling me to look after my costume and then all sharp and snarky and then, oh fuck, Em, the heat. When we touch, it's incredible. Even when we're in the same room, I can feel her. I've never known anything like it. I don't know what the hell it is even. I think I... like her."

There was a pause. He was probably wondering what the hell I was on about. "And I think you're attracted to her," he said finally.

"I didn't say attraction. I said like. It's different." He snorted.

I needed to know if he thought the same way as Angela and the others from downstairs earlier. Had I just got caught up in some romantic female fairy tale or had I really got it wrong all this time? "Em, when you think you might like someone, it's because you like what you see, right? Because the woman is beautiful and you like the way she moves and talks and sounds?" I held my breath waiting for his reply. When it came he sounded almost sad.

"Ed, you do know that's not only how it works, right?"

I sighed. I was doing that a lot lately. "I always thought it worked that way, yeah." 'Til pretty recently anyway.

"When you 'like' someone, really like them, it's not about how they look or who they know or whether you read the same books or some shit. That stuff helps, yeah, and 'liking' can grow from that, but real found-the-other-half-of-your-soul attraction doesn't need any of that shit. You just feel it. It's just there, Ed. Even if you were blind, you'd still feel it." The night he'd first met Rosalie, he'd told me she was his soul mate. I was beginning to have an understanding of what he'd meant.

"Eddie..."

"Don't call me Eddie," I growled back at him. He only called me that to wind me up. God, I think I loved him right now. I needed the distraction of being annoyed at him.

"What makes her different from all the rest?" he asked softly.

Standing in the middle of a grand country house bedroom, one shoe on one shoe off, my hair sticking up every which way from the constant tugging I was giving it, I found myself replying, my voice barely above a hoarse whisper, "She makes me _feel_, Em."

He let the silence stretch between us for a moment before he replied, "Ed, if you feel something for someone, think about giving it a chance." He paused, letting his words sink in. "I know it's not easy for you now with all this shit that goes on in your life, but you shouldn't give up on trying, you know? I care about you, man. I just want you to be happy." He was such a sap, but he was my best mate. What could I say?

"Thanks, man," I replied. "...'preciate it."

He laughed, "God, you're beat! Get to bed. Have you got an early call?"

"Not till seven," I mumbled. "A lie in." He groused for a bit about seven o'clock not being a lie in before saying, "Feeling's good, you know, Ed. Really good." I smiled and yawned in reply, and he laughed down the phone at me. "Go to sleep, Ed. I'll see you in a few days, okay?"

"Okay. See you then," I replied. "Oh, and Em? Thanks." He harrumphed, all embarrassed and pleased, and we ended the call with me laughing at him now.

It was okay. It was okay to feel like this about a woman I barely knew, one who intrigued me, scared me and turned me on in equal measures. One who probably didn't feel anything for me at all. But I knew I had to try.

First step? Initiate the 'Find Out If Bella Actually Likes Me plan'. I had no idea how I was going to do it, but first thing tomorrow, I was on it.

I threw the phone wearily down onto the bed, pulled off every item of clothing I wore, and dropped them in an untidy heap on the floor before letting myself fall face down onto the big comfortable bed. I barely had time to think to myself with a smile that Em was right; feeling was good, before falling asleep.

.

* * *

**Chapter End Notes:**

Poor Edward, bit of a tough night for him! But he seems to have accepted his attraction for Bella. Now lets see what happens...

I've had a request to start a forum for this story. Is anyone interested? Or know how to do it? LOL!


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Thanks so much for all your reviews, from a few words to an entire essay (Debbie I love you!) they mean the world to me.**

**Sorry this chapter is a bit late, it's holiday season and I got slowed down!**

**Huge thanks to my Beta MyHubbyIsATwilightWidow. I couldn't manage without her and to my pre-reader ChloeCougar and her eagle eyes.**

**Special thanks to my Facebook buddies for their 'Naked Guy' suggestions ****especially**

** Lori94 / LoriFanFic and Jay Nordmann!**

**I hope you all enjoy this chapter guys, I really enjoyed writing it!**

* * *

The Plan

.

**Bella POV**

_._

_Ugh, my head hurts. _

Actually I hurt all over.

What the hell was I doing last night?

I wracked my sleep-addled brain. I was working. That's what I was doing. Awake again till two in the morning making Mr Bloody Masen low-rise boxer briefs to wear so that I didn't fry my brain watching him this morning. Watching him and thinking about what was in those jeans. Jeez. I'd only been awake two minutes and I was thinking about his body already?

I felt really guilty about my thoughts. It was as if I was seeing him as some kind of sex object rather than a real person, but, apart from a few minutes over two years ago, he'd only ever been Edward Masen, Film Star, to me. A sexy, beautiful man to watch on the screen. A celebrity whom I'd felt a partial ownership of, as I collected his pictures on-line and followed the news and gossip about him.

Meeting the real person and finding my assumptions about him to be wrong was hugely embarrassing. It didn't seem to stop me lusting after him though.

_Hell no. He is even sexier in person than on the screen!_

Well, what difference did it make anyway? He was never going to be more to me than Edward Masen, Film Star, so I might as well enjoy my time here. Just as long as he didn't realise how I fantasised about him. That would be mortifying.

Almost as bad as last night, when I had suffered the grins of the on-duty security guard as I told him what I was doing up so late. A slow blush heated my cheeks and I buried my head in the pillow as I remembered the conversation I had had with him.

In order to make some new underwear for Edward, I'd needed online access so that I could download the pattern for boxer briefs that I kept on file. Of course, access to the internet was strictly forbidden on this shoot, so I had had to ask permission and then say why I needed permission, and then show the guard what it was I was downloading. I was pretty sure he now thought I was some kind of freaky-stalker-fan-girl who just wanted to see Edward Masen wearing her underwear_._

_Actually…_

I lay still in my nice warm bed for a bit longer, stretching my stiff limbs and thinking about Edward while I waited for the alarm to go off and tell me it was time to get up. We had to be outside and ready to film at seven o'clock this morning, which was a very pleasant lie-in compared to yesterday. Edward would be wearing the third T-shirt today, and I figured it was lucky that there were only a couple of scenes to shoot, since he had been unlucky with the other two I had made him.

I sighed. Unlucky, not ungrateful. Would he ever forgive me for being rude to him? Would I ever be able to forgive myself? And when the hell was that alarm going to go off?

I rolled stiffly over. It looked like I had just fallen asleep where I dropped onto the bed last night. No wonder my body was complaining. Reaching blindly for my temporary phone, I wished I hadn't had to leave my own at home. _Stupid rules about cameras._ My fingers connected with the unfamiliar plastic, and I brought it to my face, wondering why I couldn't see anything on its screen. Oh shit. It was dead.

A surge of panic pulsed through me as I pushed buttons frantically, trying to remember how to turn the damn thing on. Still nothing. Dead. The battery must be flat. If the battery was flat, then that meant… oh shit, the alarm wouldn't have gone off. Wide awake now, I flung back the tangle of bedding, taking note of the amount of daylight in the room… _Oh shit, oh shit_… and dived for my bag.

_I know the charger's in here somewhere. It's got to be._

My heart thumped with relief when I found it and quickly plugged it into the wall socket. Fumbling, I shoved the tiny connector into the socket on the phone and started prodding buttons again.

_Come on, come on, turn on, you useless piece of…_

The screen lit up and began to run through its wake up and recharging modes.

_Come on, come on._

Finally, the really annoying tune played and the welcome screen appeared, quickly fading into the digits of the clock.

6.32 a.m.

_Oh bugger._

I hadn't moved so fast since I was late for an exam at school. I grabbed underwear out of my bag and scrambled into it, having to try three times to do up the tiny hooks on the bra.

_Stupid things to have to wear anyway. Guys have it so much easier._

Reaching into my bag again, I pulled out a T-shirt and yanked it over my head as quickly as I could and then grabbed a shirt to throw on top of it. My jeans were a crumpled mess on the floor, so I shook them out roughly before pulling them up my legs. _Oh shit, oh shit, I am so late._ I shoved my feet into my boots and, still cursing in my head in an almost constant stream, ran out of the door.

The house was ominously quiet. At this time, almost everyone would be outside already working. I scrambled down the stairs and into the wardrobe room. Empty and quiet. Had he already dressed and gone? Of course he had. I hoped he had. I walked hurriedly over and looked behind the rails to check though.

_Oh bugger._

Hanging where I had left it last night was his costume for today. The T-shirt, jeans, trainers, socks and boxers all still neatly in place. Was the time wrong on my phone? I hurried back into the room, heading for the fireplace on the opposite wall which had an ornate clock on the mantle above it. I peered closely, not being able to see the delicate hands from any kind of distance.

_Stupid eighteenth century clock._

Six thirty eight.

He was late, too.

What should I do? Should I go and see if he was awake? Had he been up late last night, too, singing karaoke till the early hours? But I knew he hadn't. The fun had wound down around midnight, and the house had been deathly still after that. But he wasn't here. I'd have to go and check on him. Going back round into the changing area, I collected his costume together, thinking that it would save a few minutes if he didn't have to come down here to change. I scooped up the pile of clothes on one arm and hurried out of the room and up the stairs. Still no sight or sound from anyone apart from a few muted voices coming from the kitchen.

Hurrying up the stairs and down the corridor, I arrived at his room still with no clear idea about what I should do. I pressed my ear against the wood, but could hear nothing from the other side. My heart thundered in my chest. I'd have to knock. If he was getting dressed, he'd finish up before he answered, wouldn't he? If he was in the shower, however, he wouldn't hear. Supressing all thoughts of Edward striding across the room dripping wet from a shower, I raised my free hand and timidly knocked. I waited. Nothing. I knocked again. "Er, Mr Masen?" I called. No answer. This was ridiculous. I was going to have to see if he was actually in the room or not.

The adrenalin that had flooded my system when I had realised I was late, was boosted with another shot. I was about to enter Edward's room. This was most definitely one of my fantasies come true.

Pushing all thoughts of my inner fantasies aside, although not without difficulty, I put my hand on the carved brass knob, turned it, and pushed the door open. As soon as there was enough space between the door and the frame I peered inside, holding my breath.

The room was beautiful. All dark mahogany furniture, regency colours and styles in pale blue and gold. But I barely noticed it. Sprawled face down along one side of the bed was Edward. Completely naked.

My breath rushed from my body in a soundless surrender.

_Oh bloody shitty hell._

_Oh God._

_Oh __**thank you,**__ God._

Here, right in front of me, was a dream come true. How many times in your life does that happen? Without a conscious decision, I found myself stepping into the room and closing the door softly behind me. My Inner Me was practically jumping up and down and weeping tears of joy.

_He's here! My Fantasy Edward is right here in front of me._

_Asleep._

_Hmmm, asleep… _

_What I could do…_

_No, no, no. I can't think things like that._

_Oh, yes I can!_

The Inner Me was so going to get me into trouble. What the hell had she made me do? Here I stood having just waltzed into the room like it was a natural, normal thing to do. There was a naked man in this room! I did not waltz into rooms with naked men. Not ever, not me.

_Shut up and enjoy it for once._

I shut up. Leaning back against the door, clutching the clothing in my arms, I looked my fill. My eyes, I was sure, were wide, my cheeks felt like flames were licking them, and my heart was pounding so loudly it was a wonder the noise hadn't woken him up.

_Holy hell, he sleeps naked!_

My thoughts were having a hard time keeping up with things.

Seeing the naked body of the man you have been fantasising about so prominently displayed will have that effect on you.

_I should not be here, doing this._

_You said you wanted to make the most of these four days, well, girl make the most of them._

He was lying on his front, sound asleep, rumpled white sheets and a quilt beneath him. His head was sunk into the soft pillow facing away from me, and I would need to be closer to be able to see any of his face. His right hand was tucked comfortably beneath the pillow, and his left appeared to be tightly tucked under his chest, pulling a bunch of bedding in with it in a snuggled kind of way. His long back was relaxed into the bed, his sleepy breaths raising and lowering his upper body rhythmically. He looked comfortable and relaxed, and I had to fight the urge to go over and tuck him in against the slight chill in the air. Or to stroke his arse. One or the other.

His right leg was stretched out straight along the edge of the bed, a smattering of fine dark hairs dancing along the long length of it. The autumn light spilling through the window danced across his skin, light and shadow highlighting the contours of muscle and sinew along the full length, right down to the pale almost white skin of the sole of his foot, which was facing me. Delicate skin, unconsciously vulnerable.

His left leg was hitched much further up on the bed, the knee bent. The comfortable position had the advantage of lifting his left arse cheek slightly, giving emphasis to that whole impressive area as he lay breathing peacefully. With a gulp, my eyes were irristibly drawn to the wide space between his thighs, to the apex of that space. The rumpled sheets were gathered there, obscuring the delicate bulges that must be nestled in the shadows. It was a good job the rest of him made up for the disappointment.

He was, quite simply, mouth-wateringly gorgeous.

I didn't know where to look.

Yes, I did; eyes to arse, of course. I definitely had a thing for his gorgeous behind.

_I could go a bit closer._

_Closer!_

If it was possible to screech in your own head, I just did.

_Relax, you've got an excuse, you've got his costume._

Despite having the flimsiest of excuses, I found myself edging closer. All the time that I had spent watching Edward's films and interviews or Googling his image couldn't compare with the opportunity to get up close and personal with him. Very personal. I was terrified of him waking up and finding me there, but that emotion was firmly eclipsed by my desire to get closer to the beautiful man displayed so enticingly before me. Though what the hell I was going to do with him when I got there, I didn't know. My brain hadn't quite got that far.

It had been a while since I'd been this close to a naked man, and never in my life had I been near such an impressive one. My blush was still in place, pretty permanent now probably. I could feel it spreading right down my chest as I got close enough to see the baby-fine hair that covered his back, highlighted by the soft morning light falling across it. A few pale freckles were sprinkled here and there across his prominent shoulder blades, and even completely relaxed, his muscles had superb definition. I bit my lip, chewing it nervously as I ran my eyes up and down the length of his body. Holy hell, he was beautiful.

But it was no good. As breathtaking as his back was, his arse just called to me. The way he was laying, the rounded flesh was just offered to me, raised and wanting. A buried part of me was just itching to cup his cheek and feel the soft skin, the downy hair and the hard muscle beneath my fingers. I licked my lips, surprised to find them dry. I was pretty sure I had been drooling.

Eyes to arse.

Yeah, that didn't help.

I knew what I was doing was wrong. That I shouldn't even be in this room, let alone looking at him like this, but he had been part of my dreams for so long, it was hard to resist.

_I'm close enough to touch him._

_God, I want to touch him._

_He's asleep, he'll never know._

I licked my sore lip, going right back to chewing it again as I tried to prevent myself from acting on the impulses that usually only came out in my dreams. But this was a dream come true, wasn't it?

I looked over at his face, hoping against hope that he would still be safely asleep. Most of his features were buried into the soft pillow, but I could see his left eye and the top of his cheek. His eye was closed, his face relaxed. My eyes ran greedily down his neck and followed the length of his back, down to the deep dimples at the base of his spine.

_Go on, it's okay, he's asleep._

I was so going to go to hell.

I lifted my hand and held it hovering just over the firmly rounded shape of his left cheek. I could feel the body heat radiating from it. I tentatively, oh so tentatively, lowered my fingers just enough so that they barely touched the skin below. I could feel the barely there brush of the fine hairs and then skin. Cool to the touch and smooth, oh so smooth. I felt again the warm flow of heat that touching his skin always seemed to generate in me. It flowed from my fingertips and up my arm and was as real a feeling as the one I could feel with my fingertips.

Tearing my attention away from the wondrous flow of warmth, I concentrated again on my fingers.

_I can't believe I'm doing this._

_I can't believe it._

I savoured the moment, soaking in the heady feeling of achieving one of my deepest wishes. I wouldn't mind if he slept here all day. It was a pity he'd have to wake up. Anxiously, I tore my gaze away from my hand and his beautiful skin for a quick reassuring look at his face again. He hadn't moved. His thick long eyelashes were still resting in a graceful crescent atop his cheek.

_He's got such long eyelashes._

_You've got your hand on his arse and you're thinking about his _eyelashes_?_

My inner voice was up in the screech zone again. Mentally shaking my head, I admitted that this was a situation where his eyelashes would just have to be relegated to second place. I had my hand on Edward Masen's naked body.

_Holy shit. I've got my hand on him. And he's naked!_

A grin spread across my face. I couldn't help it. It was completely involuntary, and anyway, a grin was most definitely called for. It was a kid in a candy shop feeling.

_I've got my hand on his arse, and oh my God, what a beautiful arse it is. _

Having taken the unthinkable step and getting away with it, I of course, wanted more. What would it feel like if I just pressed a little bit more firmly? Felt the tone of the muscle, the softness of the springy dome?

_Go for it, just do it._

With another quick flick of my eyes to his face, I pressed my hand just a tiny bit harder. My fingers sunk in to the rounded flesh. It was so soft, so malleable, so warm now that the initial coolness had dissipated. So springy, so luscious, so … so… lickable, so biteable.

_Oh hell, yes._

My adrenalin fuelled confidence was in danger of getting the better of me. I stopped my tiny bounces with my fingers. It was too tempting to just bend over there and sink my teeth in. I tried tentatively stroking my fingers instead, exploring a larger area of the soft forbidden skin. My first barely there brush was inwards and downwards, following the steep contours of his cheek as it met the top of his thigh. Tracing the sharp crease formed there. He had such a high defined arse. As I watched, goose bumps blossomed out from the rounded cheek I was touching, spreading up and down almost the full length of his long body laid before me before disappearing again as quickly as they had appeared. It was beautiful. Magical. I felt my own body react in concert with his and drew in a sharp breath at the tingly feeling.

Magical.

_I did that._

_I caused that to happen to him._

_Holy shit, I did that. I caused that to happen to him._

My hand still roving softly over and around the dome displayed before me, my eyes caught the tiny flicker of movement of his eyelashes. _Shit, he's not waking up, is he?_ But his eyes remained closed, and my attention was drawn back to his warm perfect skin as his body shifted position as he slept. Just a small amount. Just a tiny flex of thigh and gluteus. The soft, pliable flesh beneath my hand transformed into hard as stone tautness, the thin layer of softness stretching over hard, hard muscle.

_Holy shit, that feels amazing. _

_If I wanted to bite that now, I'd never get my teeth in it's so hard._

_If?_

My Inner Me was running amuck. I wanted to squeeze it. I wanted to squeeze and knead and work that beautiful bum with my fingers, lick it with my tongue, nip it with my teeth…

He started to move.

With a frantic look at his face, I saw that he was still asleep, but that he was definitely preparing to… to… _oh holy shit, he's going to turn over!_

Snatching my hand away from the danger area, I jumped back a pace.

_No, no, leave your hand there! Things are going to get even better!_

_Are you kidding me? You've got me into enough trouble!_

What the hell was I doing? I shouldn't even be fondling his arse, let alone wanting to let him roll over so I could slide my fingers along….

_Oh, God, I shouldn't be thinking things like that._

_You think things like that all the time._

_Yeah, but not in real life!_

I jumped another pace back as his eyes fluttered open and a deep groan sounded from deep within his chest.

Holy hell, that was sexy.

He rolled completely over now, propping himself up on his elbows and looking at me with confused sleep filled eyes.

I averted my eyes.

How tempting was it? Just how bloody tempting? But I didn't do it. I couldn't. Not when he was awake. Watching me. I blushed redder than I ever had before in my life. I burned with mortification at being caught. Never, never, had I been so embarrassed, humiliated and disappointed in myself.

I thrust the bundle of clothes in my arm awkwardly towards him, the jeans and other things blocking my line of sight to the central part of his body. All I could see was a slightly hair roughened chest, a bundle of clothing and then long, long legs.

A frown creased his forehead, and he looked to be struggling to work out what the hell was going on. Can't say I blame him.

"Er… morning, Bella." He croaked, "How long have you been standing there?"

"I just got here." I forced myself to lie in the most defensive sounding high pitched squeak ever. There was no way he was going to buy it.

"Um... is that my costume?" he asked, the frown slowly disappearing to be replaced with his trademark smirk and quirk. Oh, this was so not fair. He was teasing me because he could see how mortifyingly embarrassed I was standing here. I was as rigid as a statue, not daring to move and reveal all of him, but not having any idea how to get myself out of this mess. Why the hell had I come in here? Why did I ever accept this job? And was he never going to cover himself up?

"Y…yes. You're late. We're late. My alarm…." His eyes widened, and he quickly sat up and swung his legs off the side of the bed, leaning forward to pick up his own phone from the mahogany bedside table.

I took a small step to the right, arms still rigidly extended, as I tried to keep the clothing in my aching arms blocking my line of sight to a strategic place. Honestly, why am I bothering? He doesn't seem too worried about showing off the goods to some random woman. But I couldn't. It was one thing to ogle him privately when he didn't know about it … _so being a secret perv is okay?..._ but I didn't have the balls… er… the guts to do it loud and proud.

He swore when he saw the time and stood up by the side of the bed. Hastily, I readjusted the position of my arms and gulped.

He looked at me then, really looked at me, finally awake properly and comprehending the situation.

"Fuck!" _My thoughts exactly._

"Fuck, Bella, I'm sorry. I overslept." The fact that he was standing here naked didn't seem to worry him. I shifted uncomfortably, terrified that he was going to suddenly get angry at me for being in his room like this. "Is that my stuff?" he continued, running a hand through his hair and glancing at the 'stuff' in my arms.

"Y…yes." God, could I sound any more pathetic? I felt like a virgin on her wedding night, afraid to move and see the monster.

"I'd better get a shift on and get dressed." His voice was calmer, his face relaxing back into a smile again. I loved his smile. The tension melted ever so slightly inside. The silence that stretched between us probably only lasted a second, but felt like a millennium. "Going to stay and help me?" He broke the silence with. Bloody hell, the smirk and quirk again. But there was a betraying twitch to his lips, and unbelievably, I felt my own responding in kind. This was not a laughing matter!

_Are you kidding me? It's hysterical!_

_You got me into this mess, help!_

_Help with what? You're in a bedroom with a gorgeous naked film star. Enjoy it._

_Enjoy it! I'm in a bedroom with a naked film star. What do I do now?_

_Well, you wanted to check out the feet to penis ratio theory…_

With a muffled _… "eek"…_ at my thoughts, I thrust the small bundle of clothes towards his chest, not even bothering to see if he managed to reach up and grab them. Spinning on my heel, I almost ran across the room, hearing the whomp and thump of falling clothes and shoes as I ran. When I got out of here I was going to have a serious talk with my Inner Me.

I grabbed the door handle and was about to pull it open when I heard, "Bella, wait," from behind me. Not thinking about the consequences... _since when had I around him?_... I looked back over my shoulder, one hand firmly grasping the door knob, ready to throw myself back out of the room.

He was straightening up from where he had obviously reached down and grabbed the clothes. Walking towards me, he awkwardly fisted a handful of jeans and T-shirt over the middle of his body and struggled to make his way towards me without letting them reveal too much.

Sexy man or not, it was the funniest thing I had seen in a long time. Despite my embarrassing predicament and my recent lapse in sanity I really wanted to laugh.

He registered my tight lipped attempt to hold back a smile with a bashful look and said, "I'm really sorry, Bella. I'm never really quite with it in the mornings." He fumbled with the bunched up fabric a bit more, looking slightly panicked as he nearly dropped it. "I er… guess I'd better get dressed." He looked pretty embarrassed himself. Damn if that wasn't cute. "Thanks for bringing this up here," he finished, giving a tiny jerk to the clothing he was holding and stopping a couple of steps away from me.

I could have kissed him right then. I'd never seen a man look so adorably embarrassed, sexy and dorky all at the same time. Could have. Should have maybe. But I didn't. My Inner Me was firmly squelched at last.

"Hurry up," I managed to say while trying to get my lips to stop smirking at his predicament. And taking a last appreciative look at him, -well, I just couldn't help it- I added, "You're late." I took a firmer hold of the door knob and pulled it open with the desperation of a drowning woman, because if I stayed any longer, I might well drown and never surface. Flinging myself through, I pulled it shut again behind me, having the presence of mind to at least close it quietly and not alert the whole house that I was coming out of Edward Masen's room. I released the handle and with a sigh leaned back against the door, my head making a muffled thud as it connected with the wood. I didn't even notice. That had been… that had been surreal.

A slow smile spread across my face, a red flush quickly following it. I had touched Edward Masen's arse. My fingers flexed in memory of the movements they had made over his skin, pressing, stroking, caressing… okay, groping. I grinned happily. I had touched him. I was never going to wash this hand again. Well, okay, considering the context of that touching, that was probably not a good idea, but still…

"Morning, Bella," said Stu as he walked hurriedly past.

"Morning, Stu,"I replied as I leaned against Edward's door, early in the morning, my face flushed, a satisfied grin spread across my face.

Oh bloody hell. I was leaning against Edwards's door, early in the morning, with my face flushed and a huge satisfied grin on my face.

The grin fell and the flush retreated as all the blood drained from my face.

_Oh shit. Stu saw me. Stu now thinks that I, that we, that Edward… oh shit_.

I was mortified that someone had seen me in such a position. Coming out of Edwards's room looking like -I looked down at myself, horrified. I had been running late this morning, hadn't I? I wasn't even dressed properly. My buttons were askew, and my T-shirt was on backwards. I was practically confessing as I stood here. Edward and I hadn't even done anything. Well, Edward hadn't. And now everyone was going to think that we had… Never had I felt so humiliated in my life. This just wasn't me; I didn't do things like this. The walk of shame was not one I had ever taken. I groaned, feeling sick, my chest tightening as I began to panic.

What had happened to me? How had I found the nerve to do something like that? A few days ago, I could barely even speak to a man, and now I was fondling one in his sleep? Laughing at his fumbling attempts at modesty?

But bloody hell it was invigorating.

With a new spring in my step, a memory I was never going to forget, and the rest of the day to enjoy it, I headed back to my own room to quickly finish getting ready.

**.**

**~~ooOoo~~**

**Edward POV**

_._

_Mmmm… nice dream._

_Not my normal sort of dream… feels so real._

_Feels really real. _

_Wait. Is that real?_

I must be dreaming. The light scorching touch on my arse could be coming from only one person, but why the hell would Bella be feeling me up? In my bed? In my sleep? There was no way this was real. And if it was real, what would she do next? I wanted to lie in my nice comfortable bed forever in my mostly asleep state and just wait and find out, but the situation started to get desperate.

Not only was my bladder screaming at me as I lay on my front squashing it, but my accompanying morning wood had long since gone from "hey, let's play," to "fucking _do_ something!" He was crushed uncomfortably under my hip, and no amount of fondling on Bella's part was worth the discomfort or the difficulty of restraining myself from rubbing the poor guy against the sheets... Of course, the fondling had caused half the problem, but it had been well worth it up till now.

I shifted, just enough to release some of the pressure, but it was no good. I was going to have to move completely to feel any relief. A fleeting thought of what relief Bella might be willing to provide invaded my mind, and my already engorged cock took it one step further. Never had morning wood felt like this before. But I had to move. Half in trepidation, half in expectation, and almost wholly in sleep, I shifted so that I could slowly roll onto my side and then onto my back. I groaned at the relief and then moaned at the strain. Needing to take a leak could not possibly have caused that.

I pushed myself up on my elbows, trying to wake myself up. Bella was here, wasn't she? That dream had felt so real. I felt myself frowning, my brain struggling to deal with the input of light, the memory of touch and the need to pee.

I looked blearily at a vision of Bella standing by the side of my bed. Not naked_. _

_Oh well._

_Guess that means it's the real her standing there then._

"Er… morning, Bella." I tested the waters. If I got a response then she was real, right? Christ, I sounded like my throat had been sandpapered. "How long have you been standing there?" I blinked some more, brain still not quite up to the job and tried to focus on the sight before me. She was standing ramrod straight, arms thrust out in front of her like she was presenting an offering or something.

Definitely not naked. _Oh well._

She'd just got there, she said. That was confusing. That hadn't been her hand on my arse then? Jesus, that had been such a good dream. So if she wasn't here to feel me up, what was she in my room for? What was that in her arms? My brain started, at last, to function a bit. She was holding something in her arms. Clothes and shoes. Oh. Clothes and shoes. God. I was such an idiot. She wasn't here to molest me. She was here to bring me my costume.

"Um... is that my costume?" Christ, my voice didn't sound any better.

"Y…yes. "She replied. Yes, what? Oh, yes, it was my costume. "You're late." She continued. "We're late. My alarm…." Oh Christ! We're late! Where the hell is my phone? I sat up abruptly and reached for it, staring blindly at the time. Really late.

"Fuck!" I was never going to be able to be on set on time. I jumped up, trying to work out what I needed to do first. God, I hated mornings. I needed to get dressed. I needed some clothes. My eyes focused on Bella standing in front of me looking like a deer caught in the head lights. I needed those clothes that she was holding so awkwardly in front of her like they were a shield or something.

"Fuck! Fuck, Bella, I'm sorry. I overslept." She was here to help me. She'd brought my costume up for me. Thank God for that. I needed coffee. Actually, I kind of needed to empty my bladder before I filled it with anything else. "Is that my stuff?" Was she going to stand there all morning? What was up with her? It was so frustrating not knowing what was going through her mind.

"Y…yes."

Oh fuck, I'd scared her again. What the hell had I done now to scare her? All I'd done was stand here and speak to her. "I'd better get a shift on and get dressed," I prompted cautiously. Whatever it was that I'd done, I'd make up for it. And she did look cute standing there with her T-shirt on backwards. "Going to stay and help me?" She'd obviously overslept, too. Her hair was a mussed up mess, and she had light pink sleep creases in one cheek. I could have sworn I saw a hint of a smile on her face which widened to shock at my question.

_Git. When are you ever going to learn to keep your mouth shut around her?_

She kind of squeaked out a weird sound, and the next thing I knew, the bundle of clothes was being thrust at me and she was turning and heading for the door. They fell to the floor at my feet, and I knew I didn't want to let her go like this. I wanted to thank her for waking me, for bringing my costume up to me. I wanted to find out what it was that I had done now to scare her. "Bella, wait," I called after her.

Not wanting to just rudely walk over her precious costume, I hurriedly bent down to scoop it all up and promptly nearly poked my eye out with my morning wood/Bella induced hard-on.

_Never done that before. Never want to do it again. I mean, fucking ouch._

_Oh. _

_Fuck._

I had been standing here all this time waving my dick at her.

I wasn't sure whether to laugh or curse. Would nothing ever go right between us?

_Way to stand tall there, Buddy._

My dick gave a twitch in response. You would have thought this embarrassment would have brought him down to size a bit, but no, seems he was happy to show off for Ms Bella Swan.

I grabbed the jeans and stuff from the floor and awkwardly held them in front of me as I straightened, dreading what I would see in her face. I took a few steps nearer to her as I looked up and…

Well fuck me, she was definitely checking me out. And laughing at me.

_Apologise, you prat._

"I'm really sorry, Bella," I hastily said, enjoying the smile on her face. "I'm never really quite with it in the mornings." I tried to shift the bundled fabric, not sure it was actually covering everything or not. The big guy under there wasn't exactly shy this morning. "I er… guess I'd better get dressed. Thanks for bringing this up here." I wanted to be closer to her. Even in the predicament I was currently in, I felt drawn to her. Fuck, I really didn't want to scare her off, but I just couldn't seem to keep away.

"Hurry up," she replied, a definite smirk on her face now. "You're late." And with a last look up and down at me, she turned, opened the door, and slipped out into the corridor. All was silent after the sound of the door closing, followed by a muffled thump from the other side. I leaned my forehead against the cool wood of the door, smiling, cursing myself, not able to believe what had just happened.

_Well. That was interesting._

_That's one way to put it._

The need to visit the bathroom made itself painfully known again as I stood there, so I headed towards the bed and threw my costume down onto it, bending - carefully this time- to pick up the rest, too. I looked at the rumpled sheets. I still wasn't sure if I had dreamt her touch or not. It had felt so damn real, but it couldn't have been. I felt the ghost of the bloom of heat from my left cheek where she had or maybe hadn't stroked me. So damn real. But whether that was a dream or not, the look she had given me when she was standing at the door had been real; she had checked me out and liked what she saw.

_Hell yes!_

I grinned. That was one thing I could cross off my 'to-do' list. The Find Out If Bella Likes Me Plan was complete. Now onto the next Plan. Get To Know Her. This should be fun.

My dick twitched again, perhaps particularly hopeful about this plan. I looked down at him, the head was glistening with pre-cum. At least I hoped it was pre-cum. Incontinence was not something I wanted to suffer with at my age. I shuffled into the bathroom and stood in front of the toilet.

Well, fuck. I was going to have to take care of something else before my bladder could be placated.

It was one hell of a way to start the day.

.

* * *

**Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed that! **

**Next chapter, what you've all been waiting for...**


	15. Chapter 15

Huge thanks to my Beta MyHubbyIsATwilightWidow for sorting out my appalling punctuation, to ChloeCougar for pre-reading and keeping me on track, to Iamamy for being wonderfully supportive and to everyone who has reviewed. Thanks guys!

**A/N **It's the Summer holidays which is slowing things down a bit so I'm sorry about that. (Would I rather go to the beach for the day or sit hunched over my computer? Hummm, let me think...) This chapter is quite a long one since I didn't want to split it and keep you all waiting.

I think It's safe to say that this is the one you've been waiting for!

* * *

Just Because

.

**Bella POV**

Fourteen steps, turn, fourteen steps back again. Turn...

I was pacing up and down in the entrance hall, glancing anxiously up the stairs each time I passed the foot of them. How long did it take to throw some clothes on for God's sake?...five, six, seven... What was he doing up there? ...eight, nine, ten... And why the hell did I want him to hurry? I'd be quite happy if I never saw him again.

_Liar._

_Shut up. You've got me into enough trouble._

Had he been asleep? Did he now know that I had been fondling his bum like that?

_Mmm, fondling._

_Would you shut up?_

I clutched his coat that I was holding closer to me. I was starting to panic. Not that I'd actually stopped since he'd moved in his bed, but the panic I'd managed to push down was resurfacing. He had been asleep, right? He had no idea I'd touched him?

_You're clutching at straws, Bella. Face it, he knows._

I groaned and paced harder across the wooden floor, trying to stomp the embarrassment out of my body. Would anyone notice if I left? I could just go upstairs now, grab my things and...

"Morning, Bella." Angela's voice broke into my frantic musings. "Have you seen Edward today? No one else has seen him yet, and he's nearly due on set." She walked nonchalantly over to me. "He doesn't need much in the way of make-up, but I wish he'd hurry up."

I eyed her speculatively. She seemed just a bit too nonchalant. Had she been talking to Stu? Had Stu had time to tell everyone what he had seen? Did I really think that gossip like that _wouldn't_ have travelled at light speed? "He'll be down soon," I blurted out. "He's just getting ready. We...he overslept." I bit my tongue in horror at my slip, and her eyebrow twitched, but she didn't react apart from that.

"Okay, I'll be in my room then," she replied, briskly turning and heading that way. "Come find me if you need me," she added over her shoulder as she went. What was that about?

I paced up and down some more, clutching Edward's coat to my chest. It smelt faintly of him; his deodorant, aftershave and whatever else he might use. It smelt lovely.

_Oh, God I've got it bad._

_And what the hell was taking him so long?_

"Right, I'm here." His voice suddenly sounded right next to me. I jumped and turned to glare at him, my eyes level with his chin. It was a very nice chin.

"Don't do that," I snapped with more force than I'd intended while breathing a sigh of relief that he was finally downstairs followed by a sigh of surrender at the sight of him. Really, it was so unfair that he looked so good first thing in the morning.

_You'd know._

I unconsciously leaned in towards him, breathing in. Wait. Had he showered? He was late, but had still taken the time to shower? Surely a shower could have waited?

"Don't do what?" he asked, looking surprised at my sharp tone, a touch of hurt edging his voice and colouring his eyes.

_You're imagining things. Don't get carried away._

"Don't just... appear next to me like that," I replied frustrated. This wasn't how I'd thought this conversation was going to go. "I turned around and was surprised to see you standing there. That's all." I tried to be a bit more conciliatory. He'd surprised me, yes. I didn't like having my personal space invaded, but, Inner Me was thrilled he was so close. God help me.

He leaned down and whispered in my ear, "Not half as surprised as I was earlier." Then he pulled back slightly, and I looked up and saw twinkling eyes and a lopsided grin. I was momentarily struck dumb by the sight, not to mention his words and the warmth of his breath ghosting across my ear. I could stand here and feel that all day... wait. When exactly did he mean by 'earlier'? Before or after I had molested him in his sleep? Before I could even think of a way to find out, he stepped away briskly and asked, "Angela in her room?" Then, without waiting for an answer, he turned and strode over there.

_Long legs, cute arse._

_I know, alright? You don't have to keep reminding me._

Infuriating man. I still didn't know where I stood with him. Should I apologise? But what if he didn't know about the fondling? If I apologised, he'd want to know what I was apologising for, and then I'd have to tell him and... oh, I didn't think there was a colour in the spectrum that would describe what hue my face would go when I did that.

But if I didn't apologise and he knew, then would he think that I routinely went round molesting men in their beds? The phrases 'inappropriate' and 'sexual harassment' were barely a starting point for describing what I had done.

_Oh, God, I'm in such trouble._

I resumed my pacing.

Angela was, however, swift in her ministrations, and before I had finished my internal debate, let alone come up with a plan of action, I found the three of us were bundled up in our coats and making our way outside. Autopilot was useful sometimes, like when your brain was running on overload on other things.

As we walked down the corridor, I risked flicking glances at Edward every now and then, trying to gauge his reaction to me, but I found it impossible to work out what he might be thinking.

_Bloody actors._

Hugging our coats tighter around us as we exited the building, he started up a conversation with Angela about some TV programme or other, which allowed me more time to think, never a good thing, and to watch him, which I took complete advantage of. He seemed to be walking with a bit of a spring in his step this morning as if he were happy about something. His hands were in his coat pockets, and he almost seemed to have a bit of a swagger. What the hell was with him? Me, I couldn't make myself any smaller. I pulled my coat around me, turned up the collar and wished I could go back to bed and start this day all over again.

The TV programme conversation finished, and we walked in silence across the crunchy gravel paths. To me, it was a strained silence, though Angela seemed amused by something, and every now and again, Edward would look over at me with a small self-satisfied smile on his face. What the hell was up with him? After a couple of minutes of this, I glanced round for Angela to see if she had noticed a change in his behaviour and had any clue what it was about, but I was disconcerted to find that she had disappeared somewhere. Before I even had a chance to get used to the idea that I was properly alone with him for the first time since the groping...er... bedroom incident, we were rounding a tall hedge together and arriving in a small clearing filled with about fifteen crew members.

Every single person paused in whatever they were doing, looked in our direction and took note of our arrival. Together.

_Well, shit._

The last thing I wanted was to be seen arriving on set with Edward. I glanced around again for Angela. Why had she left us like that? Looking back round, I was horrified to see that every pair of eyes was still on us as we walked further into the clearing; some impatient - Jason and Pete - some thoughtful and some downright amused. I just hoped to God that Stu hadn't said anything about what he had seen earlier. I sought out his eyes in the crowd, and he quickly looked away, smothering a grin.

_Oh, hell, that does not look good._

_He had some juicy gossip. What did you think he was going to do with it?_

Edward continued walking over towards Jason, and I veered off to the side to hopefully slip unnoticed to the back of the small crowd. Most of the amused eyes followed me. _Shit_. I was going to kill Stu if I ever dared lift my head again. My burning, off the spectrum blush was probably confirming what everyone thought. I wished I didn't blush so easily. Or, in this case, have cause to blush.

"Sorry we're late, everyone. We both overslept," I heard Edward say in the most calmly casual voice imaginable. I whipped my head round to stare incredulously across the clearing at him. He made it sound as though we had overslept **together**. From the self-satisfied grin on his face, I knew he had done it deliberately.

_You could have phrased that differently, you bastard!_

_I'm going to bloody kill him._

'_Fondling' is the last thing I am going to do to you, Mister, next time you're asleep._

There was a general wave of small movement and murmurs throughout the crew. I tried to shrink even further into my coat. For some reason, some of the crew seemed to be reaching into pockets and passing each other money. I watched as one of the guys nearest me accepted a £20 note from one of the others and cheerfully slipped it into his pocket. Noticing me watching him, he winked. I whimpered. No other word for it. The sound that I made was a pathetic wish for the ground to open up and swallow me.

"Right, let's get going," called Jason from where he was standing by the camera dolly. "We want to try and get these outdoor scenes finished before it rains." Everyone, except me, since I was still staring at the ground pleadingly, glanced up at the dark grey skies before springing into action.

Ten minutes or so later, I noticed Angela casually re-appearing beside me. I glared at her, furious with her for abandoning me and making me walk into this lion's den alone with Edward. She grinned back unrepentantly. I huffed and pulled my coat a bit tighter, managing to keep all eye contact with the crew to the barest flickers, no matter how many times they looked at me. I hated being the centre of attention like this so much.

Angela sighed and put an arm around me, hugging me as best she could through all the thick layers of clothing we wore.

"I'm sorry, Hun." she said. "I didn't realise you'd hate it this much."

"Everyone is staring," was the wimpy complaint I replied with, sounding like a whining toddler. I almost stamped my foot to go with it. Almost, but not quite. She laughed at me, giving me another hug.

"Not everyone. Look, that guy's not staring." She indicated one of the riggers with shaggy, shoulder length brown hair standing on the other side of the clearing. I glanced up at him, just in time to see him turn his head, raise his eyebrows at me, grin and wink.

"Oh, well, never mind." Angela snorted through her gloved fingers that she had covered her face with. I could still see her eyes laughing though.

"Do they all think we slept together?" I asked her in an agonised whisper.

"Most of them probably," she replied matter of factly. My heart sank. My worst nightmare; people were taking notice of me and talking about me.

"But that's just ridiculous," I replied a bit more strongly. I had done nothing to be ashamed of. Well, actually, I had, just not what they thought I had.

"I know it's ridiculous," Angela replied with total confidence. She gave me one more hug before stepping away to a safe distance. "I bet on tomorrow night."

"Angela!" I did my best shout-whisper. The last thing I wanted was to draw even more attention to myself.

"What? I'm pretty sure my money's safe."

"But we're not... we're not going to... he doesn't even like me." I could hardly get my incoherent thoughts straight in my head, but the last point seemed important enough to mention.

"Oh, Honey, he likes you alright."

_He likes me?_

_As in likes me likes me or just likes me?_

_Whoa, whichever. I'd be happy with either._

_Happy? I'd be ecstatic._

"Are you sure?" I queried cautiously. I'd settle for 'not hating' to be honest.

"Yeah, want me to go and ask him?" She grinned at me cheekily and made as if to walk over towards him.

"No!" I replied in another shout-whisper, grabbing onto the sleeve of her coat.

"Are you sure you're sure?" she was so enjoying this.

"Sure I'm sure," I replied through gritted teeth. "And anyway, how do you know?"

She retired her cheeky grin and said seriously, "He doesn't take his eyes off you."

"And?"

"And when the guys asked him a few minutes ago, he flatly denied that you slept together."

"Because we didn't, Angela!"

"Yeah, but guys usually like to brag about that stuff. He's being a gentleman. He likes you."

I wanted to believe her, I really did.

"I don't know, Ang. It's not very conclusive."

"I could pass him a note if you wanted." She couldn't keep the laughter out of her voice or eyes. She was enjoying this so much.

"Angela." I was exasperated. This was my humiliation we were talking about here, not some game. "We are not at school," I reminded her. "I don't need you to pass him a note."

But by now, she was having a hard time keeping the laughter in, and when I glared at her, I could see that there were actual tears in her eyes. Oh, well, at least I was good entertainment value.

There was a flurry of activity, and I was shocked to realise that I had completely missed the first of today's scenes and that everyone was now preparing to move onto the next. Angela hurried over to Edward and touched up his makeup, and I watched as they spoke a few words before Angela disappeared into the crowd over on the opposite side of the clearing. She was incredibly good at disappearing I was discovering.

I knew what was going to happen next. Edward was going to come over here to me to fetch his coat. I was going to have to face him and, yes, damn it, I was going to have to apologise for what I had done. It was the right thing to do. Damn it.

I watched as, inexorably, almost in slow motion, Edward shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and strolled casually over; the movement of his body, his hips, his long legs pure poetry. A flushed, knowing grin appeared on his face when he realised I was watching him, and I had a horrible feeling I had let my enjoyment at seeing him move like that show on my face. I did not want him to know I was a closet fan-girl. Resolutely I tore my gaze away. It was getting harder and harder to keep myself in check around him.

"Hi."

I jumped. He was standing next to me. I had watched him walk over here, and still, he had made me jump.

"Um, hi. Did you need anything?" This was a great time for my brain to go on strike.

"No, just wanted to come over and say hi." He wasn't laughing at me, wasn't even smiling actually. He just looked kind of sincere. It was comforting actually. I felt my tense muscles relax a bit.

"Oh!" I suddenly realised that I was standing there clutching his coat to me like an idiot. "Here, don't get cold." I thrust it towards him, hitting him in the chest with it, we were standing so close. Funny, I hadn't realised. He smiled and muttered a 'thanks' as he shrugged it on. Okay then. It was now or never. I was going to have to apologise. I just didn't know where to start.

"I'mreallysorryaboutearlier," I said in an incoherent rush of breath, raising my eyes to meet his confused ones.

He raised an eyebrow in question. God, I loved it when he did that. It was almost enough to distract me from my embarrassment. Almost.

"For coming into your room like that. I shouldn't have and..." I trailed off. The heat in my face had built up again, and I knew that the colour had reached the alternate-universe spectrum colours that I had feared. I gathered what were left of my decent coherent thoughts and tried to finish my apology properly, but he beat me to it.

"Bella, it's okay. Really. I'd slept through my alarm. I was late. I'm glad you came to wake me." He was smiling now, a genuine smile, friendly even.

_Really? Not glareing at me?_

_Nope, looks pretty friendly._

_Oh. Okay then._

I could just leave it at that. He didn't seem to think I had anything else to apologise for. But I couldn't. My damn conscience wouldn't let me. I started to twist and twizzle the ball of my right foot into the soggy ground. It was a habit I'd picked up as a kid whenever I had to talk to someone about something that embarrassed me. Which was pretty much all the time really. Though this topic broke the scale on embarrassment levels.

"Actually, Edward, there's something else..."

"Yes?" His voice was low, almost hopeful sounding?

"When I was in your room..." Bloody hell, this really couldn't be any worse. I grabbed a button on my coat and started twisting that, too, my eyes firmly fixed on the poor button I held in a death grip.

"Yes?" he prompted again, stepping a little closer and placing his fingers on mine to halt the imminent button destruction.

"Well... I... er..." I couldn't say it. I couldn't believe I had done it, and now I most definitely couldn't say it. Where was the confident Inner Me when I wanted her? Laughing at me probably.

"Did you touch me?" he asked me quietly.

My heart stopped. Oh, shit. He knew. I looked up into his face, surprised for a moment at how close we were standing. I could feel the warmth from his body reaching out to me, feel the heat from his touch radiate up from my hand. Biting my lip, looking away, twisting my foot into the mud and clutching a button so hard my knuckles turned white, I nodded.

And held my breath, waiting for his reaction.

"It's okay, Bella. I didn't mind you doing that."

_He didn't mind? Was he crazy? I could be some mad obsessed stalker person who'd broken into his room._

_Could be?_

My nervous squirming stopped.

_Wait. He said he didn't mind _me_ doing that? Right?_

I must have looked as stunned as I felt because he gave a soft chuckle and repeated in a whisper, "I didn't mind, Bella."

Oh.

"I shouldn't have, and I'm sorry," I whispered, remembering at last that I was in fact an adult and not a child, and I needed to take responsibility for my actions, obsessively-mad-stalkery-inappropriate as they were. Taking a deep breath, I looked him in the eye as I spoke.

"Apology accepted. Now," his voice rose back to normal conversational levels, and I realised how intimate the last few minutes might have looked. "Did you have time for breakfast because I'm starving?" He laughed, taking the micky at himself for his sleeping in and missing food. I found myself smiling, too. It was just infectious, and I felt some of the embarrassed tension slip away from me. Thank god, because it was crippling me.

"Don't you want to know why I did it?" I whispered incredulously.

He leaned in closer again and whispered back, "I'm hoping it's because you find me irresistible." And squirreling his eyebrows adorably, he added hopefully, "Got anything to eat in that bag of yours?" I was speechless again. He was teasing me, right?

"Um, I didn't have breakfast either, but I grabbed some of these," I replied, pulling a couple of breakfast cereal bars out of my kit-bag and holding them up in front of him. "Which one would you like?"

He looked at my choices; Sugar Puffs or Muesli.

With a grin, he took the shiny blue wrapped bar from me. "I'll take the Sugar Puffs one because you're sweet enough," he said with a completely straight face.

I gazed incredulously at him for a heartbeat. The enjoyment of the moment just oozed from him. Breaking into a huge smile, I couldn't keep the laughter down inside. After the stress, it felt so good.

"God, Edward, I can't believe you used a corny old line like that!" I giggled... _yes, giggled. I'm an idiot._

"What?" he asked innocently, his eyes crinkling up at the corners in mirth. "It's a classic. Don't knock the classics."

I shook my head at him. Who knew he was such a dork? I snorted to myself. Edward Masen, International Film Star and Sixth Hottest Man, was a dork. It was brilliant. And since when did I call him by his first name? Since I had seen him naked, apparently.

He munched happily on his cereal bar, smiling at me now and again, enjoying sharing the joke. I had never felt so confused or so content.

_Wait._

_Whoa._

_Content?_

This was Edward Masen, Film Star, Sixth Hottest Man. And I was standing here with him as if he was just some ordinary guy. Yesterday he hated me, today he was making jokes and acting as if we were...friends.

He hummed happily as he popped the last piece of cereal bar in his mouth and munched. Seeing me watching him, he winked at me again, swallowed it down and then said, "I love Sugar Puffs. Thanks, Bella." A cold breeze blew across the clearing, and loose strands of my hair irritatingly whipped round and tangled in my eyelashes. Before I could move to brush them away, he was closer to me again, filling my world. He raised his hand and, with his long gentle fingers, coaxed the strands away from my eyelashes, tucking them securely behind my ear.

"Thanks." It was barely a whisper of sound.

"My pleasure." As was his reply.

What was happening here?

His hand was still beside my face, not touching, but I could feel the welcome warmth radiating from it. Perhaps unconsciously, perhaps by design, but definitely without thinking it through, I tilted my head towards his hand. His thumb brushed the cold skin of my cheek, sending molten warmth to spread languidly from the point of contact. I don't think there was a single part of my body that didn't receive it. Our eyes were locked, and the rest of the world could have disappeared in a puff of purple smoke for all I would have noticed.

I snuggled... yes, snuggled... my face further into his palm, but was met by crinkly stickiness. He was holding the Sugar Puff wrapper in his palm with his thumb, and I now had traces of sticky honey on my face.

He smiled sheepishly and faintly blushed, averting his gaze to the muddy grass by his feet, whispering, "Sorry," as he dropped his hand. My heart, which had been on a roller coaster ride since arriving here, just melted at his awkward apology. Summoning every ounce of courage I could, I gently took his hand in mine and tugged the empty wrapper out of his loosening grip, smiling at his expression as I reached up with my other hand to flick a tiny bit of cereal off the front of his coat. Somewhere behind me, I heard a ripple of sound.

I dropped his hand like a hot potato... _what was I thinking?..._ and jumped back away from him again. When had we got so close? Turning around, I surveyed the scene. Everyone was extremely busy doing something. I had the distinct impression that they had only just started being extremely busy doing something. The rise in the noise level confirmed that there had been an unnatural silence, too.

Oh, God, they'd all been watching us.

I felt the familiar clutch of panic beginning to take hold inside, and it was suddenly hard to breathe. People were watching me, talking about me.

"Bella, are you okay?" asked Edward, obvious concern in his voice. He reached a hand out and placed it on my arm. Even through the layers of clothes, I felt the heat that his touch generated again. I think I was becoming addicted to it. I allowed myself to take a moment of comfort from it before I pulled away and put a more discreet distance between us.

"Have you heard what they are saying about... about us?" I asked him, trying not to look up at any of the crew as I spoke, knowing that I was still an object of speculation. As was Edward. My going to his room this morning had caused this gossip about him.

"Yes," he replied dispassionately. "But just ignore it. It's no one else's business but ours."

I felt a thrill shoot through me at hearing the word 'ours,' and I had to stifle the moan of longing that rose in my chest.

_Ours!_

_Get a grip. It's just a word._

_Sounds so good._

Shoving down hard on the feelings a single word had produced, I had to concentrate to remember what we were talking about. "But they're all gossiping about you. Making things up."

"And?"

"Don't you mind?" I was incredulous. Surely he had to be pissed off by it.

"I'm pretty used to it. I've learned not to let it bother me." His voice was matter-of-fact. I felt a jolt of pity deep down inside me, followed by a tide of shame as I thought of all the magazines and papers I'd bought just so that I could read the stories about him. He squeezed my arm gently. "What about you?" he asked.

I had to be honest. "I hate it," I whispered. "I hate people talking about me. It's... it's embarrassing."

"Oh, Bella, I'm so sorry," and he really sounded as though he meant it, as though it mattered. "But it's just the guys here," he added, a hopeful look on his face. He looked a bit like a puppy dog actually. "And they're just having a bit of fun?" He finished in a questioning tone, looking as though my response was the most important thing in the world.

_What kind of alternate universe am I in today?_

"I know. I just hate the thought of people talking about me." And him, I realised now, but my reply was weak and had a tone of surrender to it.

"Well, at least they are not saying anything too terrible," was his reply. Was he kidding me?

"Edward. They think we slept together."

"And?"

"That you. Slept with me."

"I can't see the problem." He was doing the perplexed puppy dog look again; big eyes, raised eyebrows, head on one side.

"Edward, your reputation. You can't let people think you'd sleep with someone like me." Was he mad?

"Bella, why wouldn't I sleep with you?" His voice had risen in frustration, and his hand went immediately to his hair and started raking through it. I thought briefly of Angela and how annoyed she'd be before glancing anxiously at the crew to see if they'd heard.

"Because ... you shouldn't let people think that you'd be with someone ordinary like me." I didn't have the words. He should be with beautiful women, not one like me. He looked angry for a moment, then sad.

Dropping his hands to his sides, he smiled into my eyes disbelievingly and said, "Bella, I don't think you see yourself very clearly."

_What does he mean by that?_

Deciding, belatedly, that putting distance between us would help to quell the gossip, I edged further away, missing his warmth increasingly the more inches I managed to put between us. He watched me move, saddened eyes pulling at me chokingly. I just didn't get it. Yesterday he hated the sight of me, and today he was upset because I was trying to keep away from him?

We fell into a thoughtful silence. I don't know about him, but I had plenty to think over. I'd never really thought about how Edward would feel having stories spread about him in the press. I'd never really thought that they were stories. I'd believed all that stuff I'd read. This morning certainly hadn't gone as I would have thought after yesterday. So much had changed since then...

"You know, it could be worse," Edward said suddenly. He nodded over towards Steve, a big, burly bloke currently showing an impressive amount of builders-bum as he crouched down at the foot of the camera dolly. "They could have said I was sleeping with him."

I couldn't help it, I laughed. He joined in and laughed with me. "See," he said. "It's not that bad."

~~ooOoo~~

**.**

**Angela POV**

.

"Want to have a fresh bet, Ang?"

I looked over at seth and smiled at him.

"I'll stick with my original. Thanks, Seth."

He shrugged and offered with a grin, "Your loss, Ang, your loss."

I looked back over to where Edward and Bella were now standing a circumspect distance apart, but laughing together at some joke or other. I saw how each of their body language mirrored the other's, how their fingers were almost but not quite touching as their arms hung by their sides, and smiled again. No, I was going to stick with my bet of tomorrow night. They were not quite there yet, though anyone could see that they were on their way.

"Okay, back to work guys," called Mike to everyone. "We need to finish this up before it rains."

~~ooOoo~~

**.**

**Edward POV**

.

The skies were black; it was going to chuck it down any minute. Jason was keeping us at the last scene forever, going over and over one turn of my head that he wanted to get 'just right.' Pernickety bastard. The rain covers were out over all the equipment, and everyone wore pinched, anxious expressions as they watched the ever darkening skies.

My characters running scenes hadn't been as uncomfortable today, thanks to Bella. When I'd hurriedly dressed after my much needed, if necessarily quick, relief in the shower, I'd discovered amongst the clothing she'd given me a new pair of boxers. Just the right size, very comfortable and sitting much, much lower on my hips than my own had. I noted briefly that they seemed to be the exact same colour as the T-shirt as I pulled them on, but didn't have time to think about anything else. Still, I'd had no uncomfortable rubbing today and felt much more secure, thanks. Damn, she was good.

Waiting as patiently as I could for Jason to decide if his seventh take had been the charm, my eyes automatically sought Bella out. She was trying to hide again, standing unobtrusively at the back of an equipment trolley, but I knew she was there. I smiled inwardly at the thought of her. What a contradictory woman she was. Feisty and shy. Sexy and demure. She was one of a kind alright.

There was no doubt in my mind now that she was attracted to me, even if the blushes and hungry eyes didn't tell me, the feeling me up this morning would have given that way. I laughed internally, keeping my private thoughts off my face as much as possible in front of this crowd and the cameras. No way in hell would I have guessed that she would have done something like that. I was asleep! Christ, what else might she do to me while I slept? I sobered at the memory of how shocked she'd been. Not just at being caught in my bedroom, because honestly someone had needed to come in and wake my lazy arse up, but she had been shocked at her own actions. Hell. She was even confusing herself. How was I ever going to understand her?

She glanced my way as I knew she would, and our gazes locked for a moment. I tried not to be obvious, as I knew she was, too, but we just couldn't seem to stop with the looks today.

"That last take was great, Edward," called Jason suddenly, interrupting my across-the-crowded-room moment with Bella. "Let's get packed up and head back in!" There was an explosion of activity as all the well-practiced crew rushed to pack away valuable kit and start to transport it back to the house.

I was feeling strangely lost as the only person who now didn't have anything to do. I looked around. Surely, I could lend a hand somewhere.

"Better put this on," said Bella from beside me, pushing my coat into my hands. "It doesn't look like the rain's going to hold off much longer." As she spoke, a few big drops of rain began to fall, and the activity around us went from rushed to frantic. As I pulled the coat on, there was a cacophony of thumps and clicks as weather-proof equipment cases were filled, slammed shut and latched closed. It was fascinating watching the crew dismantle and break down in minutes what had taken hours to accurately set up.

"What are you two doing standing there?" called Sam as she hurried by with a black plastic box under each arm. She practically threw the boxes to one of the other grips who was stacking equipment onto a trolley before she headed back past us again to fetch more.

"Can I help?" I felt particularly useless.

"Nope," was her reply on her second pass by us. Okay then.

The rain became more persistent, and Bella tugged on my sleeve. "Come on, Edward, let's leave them to it. They know what they're doing." She was right, of course, as the rapidly dismantled set proved, and I was quite cold from working in just a T-shirt all morning. I felt a glow of warmth in my chest, she had called me Edward.

"Come on then, let's go." I said and we fell into step together, both of us hurrying as the rain began to fall quicker. It was what I always thought of as 'big rain,' not your measly fine drizzle that barely got anything wet, but big ploppy rain drops that were about a bucketful each. And there were a lot of them.

A hell of a lot.

It was like someone up above was turning on the tap gradually, releasing an ever heavier flow of water. Our pace quickened as the rain quickened until we were speed walking like crazy. Grinning like idiots at each other, we were nearly at the doors of the house when... the heavens opened. A deluge of rain fell, soaking us instantly and bringing us to a spluttering halt with its roaring, painful intensity.

Gasping, shivering, laughing, I grabbed on to Bella's hand and pulled her along with me as we both broke into a run across the sodden lawns and flooded paths. She was laughing and stumbling, and I was slipping and splashing, and I held onto her hand as though it would save me from drowning.

Stumbling up the stone steps together, we burst through the doors into the huge entrance hall, skidding to a stop, but still clinging onto each other. I was laughing so hard my sides hurt, and her face was alight with mirth. Water was everywhere, and we were creating our very own muddy pool of it as we stood there trying to catch our breaths. She was a mess. It had to be said because it was true. Her long hair was partly free from its tie, and it was plastered to her head and shoulders in long strands of rat-tail, wet, dripping mess. Her face was red and shiny. Rain drops gathered on her eyelashes, and a drip was hanging on the end of her nose. Her coat was soaked, the legs of her jeans were soaked and there was mud all over. I'd never seen a more beautiful sight. My grip on her arms, originally helping us both to balance on the rain slickened floor, tightened, and I drew her nearer to me.

Above the roar of the rain through the open door, all was silent in the house save the sound of our breathing and our hearts. Mine was pounding anyway. I was sure she'd be able to hear it, but I didn't care. Her scent was intoxicating me. The water running down her hair, her face, her neck, enticed me. Her own tightening grip on my arms encouraged me.

"Bella..." I whispered, my voice failing as my eyes locked with hers. They were pulling me into her, bewitching me, calling me; her soft looking, pink lips closer and closer. I could feel her breath on my face, could imagine how she would taste. Did she want this?

She was looking up at me, her beautiful eyes wide and asking.

_Asking? For what?_

_Please let her want to kiss me._

I could feel her trembling in front of me, but she could just be cold and needing to get warm, couldn't she? Did she really want to kiss me?

I released my grip on her arms and brushed my hands slowly upwards to gently cup her face in my palms, feeling the burn of her still flushed cheeks against my skin, the heat of her presence flowing through my blood. My fingertips rested around her jaw, and I unconsciously flexed them just a touch, just enough to communicate my need to have her a little closer still.

Do you want this? It was what I had intended to say.

"Do you want me?" I murmured, a breath away from her lips.

"Yes," she replied, reaching up with her face so that our lips brushed lightly against one another's. My world stopped. Her cold, rain wetted lips touching mine sent a thrill through my body; the heat of it, the rightness of it, astounding me. Her lips felt so warm and so soft against mine. She tasted of apples and honey and something else. Something magical. I moved my lips infinitely slowly, the tiniest of caresses, fighting with myself to hold back when what I wanted was more, so much more. But I wanted this moment to last, too. It might never be repeated.

_She hasn't pulled away._

_Yet._

Her eyelids fluttered closed, the raindrops trapped in her lashes released onto her cheeks, and I missed the green and gold lights that danced in the brown depths.

_Poetry? Holy shit, you're in trouble._

I was stunned to find myself here, kissing Bella, Ms Stern Face Tyler. What the hell had happened that we went from yesterday to this? And this felt even better than I had hoped. Her lips, warm now, began to soften further under mine, and I felt the hint of a tug on my bottom lip.

_Holy shit, she's kissing me back!_

_What do I do now?_

_Are you fucking kidding me?_

Desperately beating the insecure teenager inside me down, I gently pulled her in, my hands on her face guiding her to apply more pressure, and she breathed out a barely audible sigh as she complied. The soft heat of her lips moved over mine in ways which blew my mind. I had to have more of her. I parted my lips and took her faintly trembling bottom one between mine, feeling the addictive warm softness of it as I sucked on it gently. She gave a tiny whimper in response that I felt all the way down through my body to my suddenly aching dick. The tiny part of my brain that was still functioning took note of the fact that low-rise boxers are crap at containing erections.

_Kissing._

_Fucking amazing._

_She's amazing._

_I could do this with her for hours, for days._

_This is better than sex._

_Er..._

_Okay, maybe not. But, fuck, this feels good._

Her mouth opened beneath mine, and still unable to believe that this was happening, that this felt so amazing, I took advantage of the invitation. My tongue moved in, and I explored her slowly, her own tongue meeting mine and tentatively exploring me in return. Her taste was magical. I would never get enough of it, enough of her.

I groaned deep in my throat, unable to hold it back, afraid of scaring her off. If anything, the sound spurred her on. Her hands gripped my biceps tighter, and any trembling desisted as _she_ kissed _me_.

Unable, unwilling to hold back, my mouth sought hers more desperately still, wanting it all. She met me match for match, strong, bold and assertive. Holy fuck. I only hoped that in some other life I had done something to deserve this amazing woman because I never wanted to have to stop doing this.

Seconds - hours? - passed, and we were both breathless. I pulled my lips reluctantly from hers, but couldn't keep them from her skin completely. Still holding her face between my hands, I kissed the rain from her cheeks, her nose, her forehead. Her skin was so soft, flushed and yet cool from the rain water, still dribbling down from her soaked hair. Her eyes were open, watching me with so many messages swirling within them.

Drawing back as much as I could bear, just a few inches, just enough to be able to look at each other, I gazed into her eyes, wishing I could decipher the emotions there or that I even had the words to describe the colours. Her eyes were the colour of... of sludge.

_Jesus H. Christ! Don't ever let me think I could write a script._

_She has beautiful eyes, beautiful._

_You don't need to tell me, tell her!_

But her body was leaning in towards mine now, still not touching, but bringing her warmth tantalisingly closer, and suddenly, I was kissing her again, my mouth seeking hers with a desperate need, which, incomprehensively, she seemed to mirror.

Nothing else mattered but this. Nothing could stop our kiss. Nothing **would** stop our kiss.

CRASH.

The Manor's double doors both suddenly swung open and hit the solid doorstops at their bases, the resultant sound echoing throughout the house. People, noise, rain, equipment, motion; all those things would, it seemed, stop our kiss.

Bella jumped back like a scalded cat and blushed from the roots of her hair and the tips of her ears downwards.

The tidal wave of crew and equipment and noise swept over and around us, sweeping away the intimacy, the heat, the connection I had with Bella. Damn it. I already knew that she would be retreating within herself again, burying the confident, assertive woman I had just seen a glimpse of. Sure enough, looking round, I saw her slipping away unobtrusively through the crowd towards her room, making her escape. Damn it, I wanted to join her.

Well, why the hell not? Making my way through the confusion, I followed Bella into the thankfully still empty corridor to the wardrobe room and stepped soundlessly inside. She was leaning on the table, both hands gripping the edge as she gazed down at the polished surface. Her shoulders were lifting rhythmically as she drew in deep breaths. I knew how she felt. I was gasping for oxygen, too.

I stepped up beside her and put a hand on her shoulder, hoping to comfort her, but also to let her know that I was still there with her. Her coat was sodden, and her hair still wet and cold beneath my touch, and she stiffened instantly.

"Do you want me to apologise for that, too?" she asked in a whisper, not turning around, not altering her position at all.

I smiled to myself. She would, too, I was sure. As if there was anything to apologise for. I leaned in and just about managed to reach her right cheek over her hunched shoulders. I kissed her quickly and chastely on her flame coloured cheek and replied, "No. Most definitely not. In fact, I'd really like us to do that again if you would like to." I held my breath awaiting her reply. The seconds dragged like hours.

Then her stiffened shoulders dropped, and she turned her head to look at me. We were so close our noses brushed, and I laughed at how cold hers felt.

"Why?" she asked, a puzzled frown creasing her brow. I reached up and brushed my thumb over the creases, soothing them down, trying to think of a simple answer to the really complicated question. I gave up.

"Just because, Bella, just because." The horrifying thought struck me that perhaps she didn't feel the same after all. She had kissed me and had touched me earlier, but perhaps she didn't want anything more to do with me. Ms Stern Face Tyler could re-emerge at any moment and have my balls for being so presumptuous. "Don't you like me, Bella?" my inner insecure teenager asked her.

She looked shocked for a moment before replying, "Of course I like you. Everybody likes you. You're Edward Masen. You're a film star."

I brushed my thumb down her cheek, following the line of a drip of rain water, trying not to sound too desperate when I spoke. "Bella, I'm not him. I'm just me."

She turned her face away from me, and a fist inside my chest clenched. Rejection had never felt this bad before. But then she spoke, quietly and confidently, "Yes, I'm beginning to see that," before she turned her face towards me again, put her hand over mine, still hovering above her shoulder, and squeezed it lightly before pulling away. It was a fleeting touch. I felt uncertainty in it, but also maybe hope. "I am seeing that," she repeated before stepping away from me, putting very unwelcome distance between us. I watched as she took a hold of herself, standing straighter and lifting her chin. "Now," she said in her School Marm voice, but with a twinkle in her eye, "Take your clothes off."

_What?_

_Really?_

_NOW?_

Without thinking, I eagerly stripped the coat off and let it drop to the floor with a wet soggy 'splat' sound. She snickered and quickly covered up the sound with her hand. Her faintly trembling hand. And this time, I knew it was definitely from the cold.

_Oh. The cold._

_Wet clothes._

_Take them off._

_Well, fuck._

_Maybe next time._

The front of my T-shirt was also wet since I hadn't done up the coat, and the fabric clung unpleasantly to me. I watched her eyes widen appreciatively as she took this in, and I automatically did the muscle tensing thing that they always told me to do for photo-shoots. "Bella..." I half-heartedly tried to get her attention, though I was enjoying having her eyes glued to my body. "Look, Bella," I teased, "I didn't damage the T-shirt today."

She snatched her attention back up to my face, took note of the fact that I was now teasing her and narrowed her eyes at me. Folding her arms across her chest... _fucking coat in the way_... she raised an eyebrow, and in her stern Ms Tyler voice asked, "Really? And would you like a round of applause for that?"

I grinned back at her and watched as her lips twitched in response. She was still snarky, and I loved it.

"Take your wet things off, Edward, before you catch cold," she instructed, nodding to the changing area. "There's a robe behind there you can put on."

"You should change, too," I replied quickly, my ever hopeful teenage side kicking in, but she just smiled.

"I will," she replied. "Just as soon as I know you're sorted. I'll have your suit ready for this afternoon's scenes after lunch, and I'll hang it there, too. Okay?"

I nodded, enjoying her business like persona, even if it was frustrating. I wanted, no, needed, to peel back the layers and learn about what lay beneath if only she would let me. I knew I couldn't turn away now, not without knowing for sure that she liked me; liked _me_, not the hyped up 'film star' character that she had probably read about.

"Bella," I began, not knowing how I was going to say this without sounding like an inexperienced idiot, but needing to do it. "Do you think maybe you... like me?" Yeah, that didn't sound at all like a kid with a crush. Bollocks would an amazing woman like her want a pathetic guy like me. I watched as she walked towards me, my heart thudding as she paused, took my hand in hers and gently squeezed it before letting it go again and saying, "Yes. I like you, Edward," I watched helplessly as she stepped past me and walked out of the room.

_She likes me. She fucking likes me!_

_Get it together, you prat. You look like an idiot staring after her!_

But I didn't care. Because she liked me.

And that was worth celebrating.

.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Grips.** Grips are trained lighting and rigging technicians. Their main responsibility is to work closely with the electrical department to put in lighting set-ups required for a shot.

**Camera Dolly**. A **camera dolly** is a specialized piece of film equipment designed to create smooth camera movements. The camera is mounted to the dolly, and the camera operator and camera assistant usually ride on it to operate the camera.

Thanks to everyone who has left a review so far, your comments mean the world to me.

Next chapter sees Edward's character Liam in a seduction scene. Open white shirt, bare feet; might it be Bella who gets seduced?


	16. Chapter 16

**Well, my Bella and Edward are back again at last! I'm sorry it's taken so long but to make up for it, this is a long chapter. As always I'd love to know what you think so please review!**

**This chapter switches POV back and forth quite a bit, but I was having so much fun with Edward and Bella, I just couldn't help it!**

* * *

**Gucci and Bare Feet**

**Bella POV**

Leaving him standing there had been so hard to do. His repeated 'do you like me?' had seemed so sincere. And yes, I did like him. God help me.

I practically skipped upstairs. What was I, twelve? What the hell had he done to me?

_Er…kissed you?_

_Yeah, that would do it!_

I quickly pulled on dry clothes…_warm at last_… and dried my hair. It was even more of a mess than normal now, but scrunching it back into an elastic band took care of that problem. Honestly, these women who took hours over their hair, whatever were they doing with it? My stomach grumbled, reminding me that a muesli bar would not last all day, so I tried to stoke up the courage to go back downstairs and brave the kitchen.

I dreaded what I might find there. Would they all look at me again? Would any of them ask me about Edward? Or was it all old gossip now, forgotten and never thought of again? Yeah, as if that would happen.

The kitchen was abuzz with noise as people chatted and laughed together. There was a faint pervading smell of wet wool as coats and boots hung on the backs of chairs and lined the radiator to dry, and you could almost see the air as the rain water evaporated away. Steaming tureens of soup gave off delicious smelling aromas though, making the damp fug more than acceptable. My mouth watered at the smell of the soup, but I hovered in the door way, not wanting any attention to swing my way. After a couple of minutes though, I came to the belated conclusion that I looked like an idiot standing there, and I slipped as unobtrusively as I could into the room and made my way to the table groaning under the weight of hot soup, sandwiches and delicious looking dessert pies. I was very conscious of the noise levels around me, but thankfully, I didn't notice any particular change as I made my way through the crowd.

I reached for a mug, my hand shaking from nerves. Any minute now, I could become the centre of attention again. I bit my lip wondering if it was a good idea to try and ladle hot soup into the mug when I couldn't hold the mug still. I had just about decided not to risk it when one of the cheerful catering ladies said, "Let me get that for you, love." She ladled beef and tomato deliciousness into an extra-large sized mug. "Grab a sandwich as well," she indicated down the table, "and you can always come back for more."

I smiled gratefully at her, but I was unable to stop my eyes from darting nervously side to side, making sure no one was looking at me.

Taking a firm hold of my mug and plate, I slipped back out of the kitchen again. Success! I'd kept my eyes glued to the floor or the table for the most part, but I was pretty sure no one had looked at me particularly or had tried to speak to me. My heart was thumping as though I'd done something action-packed like an African safari, but I'd have chosen a pride of lions over inquisitive co-workers any day.

Even though they weren't all complete strangers now, in fact some I had come to quite like, I still cringed at the thought of being amongst a crowd, of being the focus of any kind of attention. I slipped down the corridor blessedly unnoticed back to my room and sat in comfortable silence at the table to eat. It was such a relief. When I had stepped around that hedge into the clearing this morning and everyone had looked at me, well, it had been horrendous. I needed the peace and quiet now to get myself together again. And as for the kiss…

_Don't think about it. Don't think about it._

_Shut up. I've got to think about it._

True. I had to because it had been shocking, surprising and fan-bloody-tastic. Had I ever had a kiss like that before?

_Jake could kiss well._

_Are you kidding? He was nothing on that._

_You lived with him for eighteen months. He must have been a good kisser._

_Obviously not._

Admittedly, I didn't have a huge long list of men to compare him to, but oh hell, Edward came top of the list no problem.

_If a kiss was that good, just think what sex would be like._

_Don't think it. Don't think it._

We worked together. There was no way we could do that. It was wrong. Hell, kissing him was wrong, let alone anything else.

_Anything else? _

_Getting ahead of yourself, aren't you?_

It had been a bloody fantastic kiss though. I grinned as I ate my sandwich, feeling my toes curl inside my boots as I thought about it. Fan-bloody-tastic.

Was it worth risking my heart to have a fling with him? There were only two days left. We wouldn't have much time together if that was what he wanted.

_Two nights though._

_Shut up. _

But if this was about sex, then that fact was important, I reminded myself. Is that what he wants though?

_What? Sex? Are you kidding? He's a guy. Of course that's what he wants._

Yes, but maybe he was looking for more than just a couple of days. Maybe. I shouldn't get my hopes up like that. No, he isn't the womanising, arrogant man that I thought he was. In fact, he was quite nice. I rolled my eyes at myself at this astronomic understatement… but that didn't mean he wanted a relationship with me. It's much more likely he just wanted some no-strings-attached fun for the next couple of days.

I was faintly disappointed with myself when I realised that, actually, I'd be quite okay with that.

But I didn't want to be making an idiot of myself by assuming anything. I still needed to get this job done and done well. I needed a good recommendation from it, and I couldn't let one little kiss… I snorted at the attempt to underplay the best kiss I'd ever had… break my concentration.

I was here to work. I needed to be professional and not let my sappy heart dictate my decisions. After all, it's not as though I knew the real Edward well, and just because I'd fallen in lo…

_Hell no!_

I was not 'in love' with Edward. I was simply infatuated with Edward Masen, Film Star. You can't just fall in love with someone over some puppy-dog eyes and a bloody amazing kiss. And some kind of charge in the air between us. And that heat when we touch. And…

_Shut. Up._

_I am not in love with Edward._

I determinedly didn't think about him as I rearranged some papers on the table and enjoyed the last few minutes of quiet. My quiet solitude didn't last for long, however. A few minutes later, Angela and Jessica swept into the room professing womanly solidarity and bringing tiny little melt-in-the-mouth apple pies with them.

Okay, maybe some company wouldn't be so bad after all.

.

**Edward POV**

I had to admit I was taking a hit to my ego. The one I liked to think I didn't have. But I did, because it was wounded. Wounded and crawling away to die quietly somewhere. The one woman I'd ever met who I wanted to have an effect on, and once again, I wasn't. I wondered if it was me. Perhaps I'd lost my touch somewhere between lunch and arriving in her room. I looked around. Jessica was in here discussing the arrangements for the photo shoot with Bella, and Angela was here, too, waiting for me to go next door with her and have my make-up sorted. I would just have to see if I'd lost my touch. I smiled my smile and deployed the whole charm offensive on the three women in the room, and two of them just about melted, but the harder I tried, the less effect it seemed to have on Bella. Bloody hell. We were back to square one again.

She was going to drive me nuts.

I dropped the charm and cleared my throat uneasily. "Er, excuse me, Angela, Jessica, but Bella and I need to sort out the costume for this afternoon, so … if you wouldn't mind?"

With hardly a backwards glance, they winked at me and left us alone together. Jessica even shut the door behind her. I cleared my throat again. The tension between me and Bella was awkward, to say the least. I didn't like it. Not one bit. It felt too much like the morning after a one-night stand. The ones I didn't have. Anymore. Shit.

Rubbing the back of my neck awkwardly, I turned to face her. "Erm… about earlier, Bella…" I started before shutting up again pretty damn quick.

_Great, you sound like a right prat._

I ran my fingers through my hair frustratedly and bit down on my lip.

_Ouch!_

_Stop whining. You're making a right hash up of this._

"Erm… that kiss, Bella," I started again, watching painfully as she flinched before recovering herself, bracing for whatever I was going to say to her. I felt really guilty for making her feel that way, and I rushed on quickly, "I just wanted you to know that it was special. I mean, it was special to me. I don't mean it was special to you because of course I wouldn't know, so I wasn't saying that. It just was to me… I mean."

Fuck, I could talk quite happily to almost any other woman on the planet, but my brain just turned to gibberish with her. She hadn't moved, was holding herself as still as a statue. She didn't think I was going to say anything bad to her, did she? I mean, we'd kissed, and I thought it had been incredible, and I really wanted to do it again… _oh fuck, yes!_… and I felt a connection between us, a pull, some sodding indescribable magical pull and…

I paused in my thoughts. She didn't know that I felt that, did she? Hell, she probably thought I kissed loads of women. All the time.

"It's not something that I do," I carried on hastily, hoping to correct her if that's what she was thinking. "Kiss women. Like that. Anymore."

_Yeah, idiot, just make it worse, why don't you?_

"I mean, I did, a bit, when I was new to all this, but I don't anymore. You see?"

I desperately wanted her to see. But oh-my-fuck was I making a mess of this.

_Get it together, Masen, or you're going to lose this, whatever it is, with her._

I took a deep breath and tried again.

"What I'm trying to say, Bella, and I know I'm not doing a very good job of it," I laughed depreciatively, "Is that I don't sleep with my co-stars, I don't mess around with the crew, I don't pick up random women in bars. I'm past all that. It's all meaningless. I'm looking for something else now, have been for a while, in fact, and I think that, maybe, I might have found it with you."

Jesus, this was sounding like I was looking for a commitment. Was this what I wanted? I felt a momentary flutter of instinctual panic before scoffing at myself. Yes. It was. Holy fuck.

"That kiss, it was special. And I hope, I really hope, that maybe you felt that, too, just a bit. Maybe," I continued, a hint of desperation edging my words.

_Hold it together, Masen. You're starting to slip again._

I took a deep breath, determined to get a hold of myself and get this bit right at least. "What I want to say is that I'd like to get to know you better. After this shoot if that's what you'd prefer. Perhaps we could meet, erm… go out on a …date?" My voice petered out to a whisper, and I realised I was now looking at the ground, not wanting to see the rejection I was sure was in her eyes. My heart was pounding, and despite the deep breath of life-giving air I'd gulped, I felt weirdly dizzy. I shoved my hands firmly in my pockets and forced myself to stand still and wait for whatever response she would make. I honestly had no idea how she would react. Contrary woman. I scowled at the thought.

_Way to appear confident and mature, Masen._

But I didn't want to pretend with her. I wasn't confident, and I sure as hell felt like an adolescent whenever I was around her. I felt her step closer, could feel her heat as she drew nearer. My heart rate picked up even more. This was it.

.

**Bella POV**

It was probably the most adorable thing I'd ever seen. If it was any other man, he might look a bit pathetic, but that just wasn't possible for Edward. When I was six, I'd never been asked out on a date by another six year old, but I imagine that if I had, he'd have looked just like this.

I stepped closer to him, my lips twitching at the sight of his slumped shoulders, his hands shoved deep into his jeans pockets, the deep frown lines across his forehead and, oh, his pouty lips. I felt my heart twist inside me. Finding the courage that only seemed to exist when I was near him, I lifted my hand towards him. I paused hovering over his shoulder, a relatively safe area, but I wanted, and he needed, more. Instead, I allowed my hand to cup his cheek, fingers resting lightly along his chiselled jaw. Instantly, the flow of heat started, warming every part of my body. I had no idea what that was exactly, but I knew I loved it.

"Edward." My voice was quiet and steady, and I was a bit surprised I'd managed to make any sound at all, let alone something so steady.

He lifted his head, his eyes meeting mine, and my breath caught in my throat. How could this beautiful man possibly want anything to do with me? His expressive eyes were asking, hoping, reassuring, worshiping. Eyes alone couldn't do all that, could they? It must be my imagination. He swallowed deeply, his prominent Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

_Concentrate, Bella. Don't mess this up. I think maybe this could be real._

I squealed inside like a Justin Bieber fan, but smiled at him as sanely as I could in the circumstances.

"We can get to know each other here, too, if you like," I found myself offering, part of me not wanting to wait in case he didn't mean it, part of me horrified at the thought of causing any kind of gossip. "We can talk while we work, yes?" I added, hoping against hope that I'd be able to concentrate on work with all… this… going on. Inside, I was still squealing in an embarrassing fan girl way while the feel of his scruff roughed skin against my palm and the possibility of something between us made my heart pound.

In reply, he slowly turned his head and pressed his lips into my palm, the feel of them soft and warm against my sense heightened skin. My knees almost buckled. Wait. What the hell kind of a stupid plan had I just suggested? There was no way I could keep my sanity while working with him.

Especially if he did that.

"That's a good plan," he replied softly, his words brushing against my skin, his eyes never leaving mine. "I like it."

That was good then. I think.

_Engage brain, girl!_

_Sorry. Not a chance of that happening any time soon._

He pressed another sensuous, warm, moist kiss into my palm and then moved his lips away, turning to face me again. He was smiling at me now, his eyes sparkling, and I had a bizarre flash of kid-on-Christmas-morning feeling.

_Oh god, I've got it bad!_

I clenched my fingers over the slightly damp skin of my palm where he had kissed me and held on. I wanted to keep those kisses forever. Heck, teenage me was running rampant again. This never happened. I didn't even know I still had a teenage side left. I took a deep breath and consciously pushed down on the sappy stuff. We had a job to do.

_Be professional, remember. This is just a slight amendment. Now I'm going to be professional while getting to know him better. That could work. Right?_

I took a somewhat unsteady breath and stepped further away from him. I could think a bit clearer when I wasn't so close.

"We still need to work," I reminded him a little shakily. "We need to be professional, not let anything interfere with our work."

He nodded in agreement. "Of course," he replied a bit too meekly. I shot him a suspicious look.

"We're here to do a job after all," I continued more firmly, managing to pull my so-called professional persona back. "The job comes first," I reminded him as sternly as I could manage over all the conflicting stuff that was going on inside. He nodded again, his face now inscrutable. Bloody actors.

"Well, we should get ready for this afternoon then," I reminded him briskly, a bit annoyed that I couldn't now tell what he was thinking. "They'll be calling for you soon." I thought I caught a momentary flash of something hot and hungry in his face before he covered it up again. But I could have been wrong.

"Sure," he replied, looking like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. "I'm wearing a suit, right?" His blankly innocent look was as infuriating as hell.

"Yes," I replied through gritted teeth. "And taking some of it off, don't forget." I gulped. _I_ hadn't forgotten. "Have you practiced that?" I asked him challengingly.

He looked pointedly at me, and I didn't know whether to be annoyed or giggle. Really, this was going to be such hard work. "Bella, I get undressed every day," he said. "I kind of know how to do it by now."

I pushed down the little thrill I felt when he said my name and replied, "Yes, I know, but do you know how to do it for an audience?" He looked a little more unsure now, and I smirked a bit. "Put your suit on and then maybe we'll go through the scene briefly?" I made it a question, trying to calm myself down a bit. He gave me one of his patented crooked grins… _bastard, does he know what that does to me?_... and disappeared around behind the rails to change. I carefully turned to face the other way, not wanting to risk seeing any narrow flashes of his body again. Damn it. I was going to have to confess about that, too, wasn't I?

After a few tense minutes, tense for me anyway, he stepped back around the screen and said in his best chocolate-coated-velvet voice, "Okay, Bella, I'm ready for you." My heart slammed into my throat, and my ovaries practically got on their knees and begged. I turned to face him, gripping onto the side of the table as I did so since it was the only way to keep myself upright, gave my internal organs a stern talking to about priorities, and narrowed my eyes at him.

"What?" he asked, not at all innocently, a wicked gleam in his eye. My lips almost twitched and gave away my amusement. God, he was going to be hell to be around. How could I possibly concentrate on work? We were going to need some ground rules. I hesitated, but it was now or never. I had to not be timid around him if we were going to be… friends now.

"Youneedtostopsayingthattome," I told him, forcing the damning words out in a rush. He quirked an eyebrow at me in question, though the amused look on his face told me he knew full well what I was referring to. Bastard.

"And stop doing that, too!" my voice was an anguished cry. God, he was so annoying and sexy and likeable, damn it.

He grinned, not even pretending now to not know what I meant.

"Get you hot and bothered, do I?" he asked. I blushed. Damn it. He laughed softly and walked towards me, bending down to whisper in my ear, "Did you know you are as sexy as hell when you go all Ms-Stern-Face-Swan on me?" I blinked confusedly, my mouth dropping open as my brain struggled to keep up.

_Wh…what?_

He grinned at my confusion, put his finger under my chin and nudged my mouth closed, but saved me from having to respond by casually walking over to the table and picking up a copy of this afternoon's script. "You want to go over this together, do you?" he asked calmly in a business-like tone. How the hell did he do that? I struggled once again to push the personal stuff down, and I loosened my grip on the table.

_Deep breaths, Bella. Think about it later._

"Yes," I paused, valiantly gathering my professional self together. I was getting a lot of practice at that. "I think you should just go over the moves a bit if you're not used to them."

He smiled at me, his eyes crinkling like they did when it was a genuine smile. I found myself smiling back. God, that felt good. "Moves?" he questioned, lowering his gaze to read the stage directions out loud. "_Liam enters the room and throws his jacket over a chair. He looks at Lauren, lying in bed on the other side of the room. He sits and takes off his shoes then…"_

"And socks," I interrupted quickly.

He glanced at me, his eyes amused, before continuing, "_AND socks and then slowly walks towards her, taking off his tie and undoing his shirt as he walks. _You know," he added, "I think I can do that okay."

I sighed. Men. "Edward, you should practice with these clothes. You're not used to them. Stand in front of the mirror and undo your tie," I instructed. "It should be sensual but purposeful. Practice flicking the cufflinks undone, too. They can be a bit tricky. Remember, you are watching Lauren the whole time, so you won't be able to look at what you're doing."

He looked up through his lashes, wet his lips and gave me a brief burning look at my stern tone.

_Oh my God, I've died and gone to heaven. No, actually, that should be hell. The things he makes me feel are definitely _bad_. Very, very bad and naughty…_

Then he looked away and nodded, acknowledging the use in practicing this and, I thought, the necessity of getting back to work. Quickly. Before we, well, whatever. I just grabbed hold of my sanity and held on for dear life - I was doing that a lot around him - and stood back and watched.

It was what was called the Declaration Scene this afternoon. Taking place in a dimly lit bedroom, Edward's character, Liam, half undresses in front of his girlfriend. This was the scene that … I gulped… originally Edward had been down for doing naked. It was me that had asked for the whole undressing scene instead, so I wanted to make sure that he got it right. The actress playing Lauren wasn't here today, but it wasn't a problem. Edward just had to fix his eyes on the spot that she would be in if she were here and, well, just act.

I looked at him wearing the outfit that I had picked for the scene and felt a small swell of pride, both for my choice of outfit and for how damn bloody good he looked in it. I'd selected a coal black Gucci suit, crisp white Charvet shirt, and slim silk tie. The French cuffs were fastened with platinum cuff links - brushed rather than polished - and he had on black leather dress shoes. He looked amazing. He looked delicious. I wanted so badly to slide my hands inside that jacket, between cool silk lining and body warmed cotton shirt, and wrap them around him. I couldn't believe that this was the man who had kissed me a short while ago. This man. Kissed _me_.

_Here to work, remember?_

Reluctantly, I forced all thoughts relating to kissing, twinkling eyes and naked bodies firmly down and tried to think objectively.

Edward was fiddling with the shirt, looking a bit unsure. "Does this fit right?" he asked as I walked closer to stand in front of him. "Shouldn't it be looser?" I snorted to myself. I loved the way the shirt followed the taut lines of his body down into the low waist of his trousers and beyond…

_Here to work, remember?_

"It's perfect, Edward," I informed him, the effort of keeping the personal stuff firmly repressed making my voice brisk. "Shirts should never balloon when they're tucked in. They should be snug in the chest, but without any pulling between the buttons." He fingered the thick mother of pearl buttons. God, I loved watching his beautiful long fingers. I swallowed. Hard. He watched me, his eyes darkening again.

Getting my mind away from bad, very bad, personal thoughts again and valiantly ignoring his look, I suggested, "See if you can undo the buttons one handed. That always looks good." He practiced for a few minutes, his dextrous fingers flicking the buttons open effortlessly, allowing a few chest hairs to spring free and exposing the skin of his chest down to just above his navel. I looked away, swallowing hard again. He was going to be the death of me. Death by lust. I wondered if that was possible.

He grinned mischievously when he saw my reaction, and I gave him a hard look in return. If I was going to put in this much effort to controlling my thoughts and possible actions, then he damned well was too.

If anything, he smirked even harder at my look. Damn him. I grinned. He was incorrigible.

"This is a nice shirt," he commented, presumably in the way of a peace offering.

"It should be for the price," I muttered under my breath, waiting for him to do it back up again so that I could safely look without having to risk reaching over to run my fingers inside that shirt, through that light dusting of springy chest hair.

"Why?" he asked, concentrating on the buttons. "How much did it cost?"

"About £300 pounds."

"For a shirt?" He was aghast, and I laughed. Multi-million pound earning film star or not, at least he had his feet on the ground.

"It's one of the most important parts of your wardrobe, Edward," I lectured, enjoying seeing him staring in incomprehension at his shirt. "Anyway, I've seen you in beautiful shirts," I continued, not adding that I probably had a better idea of what he had worn in public than he did.

"Well, my sister shops for me," he mumbled, looking embarrassed at having to make that confession.

"Just don't ever ask to look at the bill then," I replied, laughing a bit as he pouted and muttered that it was just a shirt. I wondered if he knew how much the suit he was wearing cost. I handed him the tie and watched as he deftly slipped it round his neck and quickly tied it.

"Okay," he said. "Have I tied it right?"

I looked closely at the tie, surprised to note that it was a beautiful knot complete with dimple. Perfect. Of course, I reminded myself, the amount of premiers and appearance he did, he'd had a lot of practice at perfecting the tie. I nodded at him approvingly. "It's great, though it could be a little shorter; the tip of the tie should hit the middle of the trouser button. Now, practice undoing it."

He gave me an inscrutable look before practicing a couple of times. "Remember to keep your eyes on the mirror and not look down at your hands," I said. "And you could slow down a bit, too. Make this a lingering process. The brush of the silk against the starched cotton of your shirt could be quite sensuous. The secret is to look confident and maintain eye contact with Lauren." He nodded, taking in my advice, and practiced a couple more times.

I watched as he tied and untied the subtly striped silk around his neck. I found the expression of concentration on his face incredibly distracting as every now and then his tongue flicked out and touched his lips. I shifted uncomfortably, knowing what that tongue felt like brushing against my own lips. In a poorly thought out attempt to distract my thoughts from the memory of that tongue, I let my gaze drift down his body to his black wool covered legs. The trousers he wore had been tailored for him and, oh boy, did they fit well; low on the hip, slim in the leg and snug in all the right places. In fact, a bit too snug in one place, I smirked. Perhaps he should wear a dressing ring* to help with that little problem. Not that I minded seeing the gentle bulge at the top of his left leg. Not at all. But it did make me a bit hot and bothered, as Edward had put it.

_I wonder how long I can stare at his crotch before it looks like more than professional interest?_

_Probably should have stopped about five minutes ago really._

Edward cleared his throat, and I tore my gaze back up to his face to find him watching me intently, the hot hungry look back in his eyes. Oh bloody hell. I felt heat bloom across my cheeks, but before either of us could say anything, a sharp rap sounded on the door, interrupting what could have been an awkward moment there.

_Could have been?_

Our gazes were still locked together as Angela stuck her head around the door, spotted Edward and announced, "I need you in make-up now, Edward," before disappearing again. Neither of us acknowledged her. With a sigh, Edward broke his gaze, leant forward to pick up his jacket from where he had thrown it on the table and turned to obediently head out of the room after her. He paused as he passed me and leant down to give me a brief but incredibly hot kiss on my startled lips.

_Warm, soft, honey._

_Holy shit, I will never get used to that._

"Work now, talk later," he whispered, his breath brushing in a promise across my already heated cheek. I didn't reply, couldn't reply. I just stared after him as he sauntered out of the room, leaving me completely unable to move. Partly I was stunned by the chaste but, oh my god, hot kiss. Partly it was because I was enjoying watching his arse as he walked away.

.

**Edward POV**

The set was dark and atmospheric. Brilliant. I was going to trip over something and miss all my marks. Was it my fault my concentration was shot to pieces? Those few minutes while she watched me dressing and undressing had been torture. The way her eyes widened as I undid the buttons on my shirt, the way they got darker, almost predatory, as I undid the lower buttons. God, I thought I'd never be able to stand still. And then the way she looked all disappointed and pouty when I did them up again… A man could only take so much, and she pushed me right to the limit. And I don't think she even realised she was doing it.

I shook my head to try and clear it, though it was a useless attempt really, and had to resist the temptation to put both hands in my hair, grab hold and pull. God, I was so worked up.

"Are you ready, Edward?" asked Jason. "We need you in starting position. We're just waiting for you." I grimaced at the subtle dig. I needed to concentrate on work, even if it was the last thing I wanted to do.

I was starting off in the door way of the room where my character needed to pause and take off his jacket. Jason made his way over to me for some last minute direction. He probably figured I needed it. "Pause in the door way, Edward," he instructed. "You'll be backlit for this whole scene, don't forget, so your siluette is important." I nodded.

Alistair appeared at my side and added, "And I suggest a subtle unbuttoning of the jacket and a casual shrug of your shoulders to slip the jacket down your arms and then just throw it on the chair."

Jason and I eyed him speculatively. He sounded like he'd done this before. He winked, and I grinned and decided I didn't want details.

"Wouldn't Liam take a bit more care of it?" I asked, thinking of my tightly controlled character.

"Your girl is lying in bed waiting for you," replied Jason dryly. "It may well be an expensive suit, but sex is on the menu, don't forget." Yeah, I could relate to that. I forced my mind away from the memory of kissing Bella. Not helpful right now. Need to concentrate.

Alistair added, "There's nothing less sexy than a man fussing about folding his jacket just right. Take my word for it. Just toss it over the chair and don't give it another thought." So that's what I did. I felt awkward and a bit stupid doing it, but we just did a couple of takes, and they were happy with the results. The next part wasn't so easy.

Sit on the chair, take your shoes and socks off and make it look sexy. How the hell did anyone make that look sexy? What the hell kind of job had I ended up in where an instruction like that was part of my working day? Jason had instructed me to keep my eyes on Lauren from the moment I entered the room, telling her with my gaze how much I wanted her. Taking my jacket off, letting it slide down my arms and nonchalantly throwing it onto a chair was do-able, but now I had to sit and take off my shoes and socks, sexily, without looking away from the point where Lauren was. Had they any idea how hard that was? Were any of _them_ going to go home after this and sexily take off their shoes and socks for their wives or girlfriends? Who the hell did that in real life? But if there was one thing I had learnt, it was that films in no way reflected real life. I did my best to think like Liam, but the sock thing was just ridiculous. I couldn't believe I was doing this. I let a chuckle slip out, and Jason called, "Cut! Try that again, Edward, from the top." _Shit._ I pulled the socks back up and started again. I was going to have to try harder. Perhaps if I imagined it was Bella waiting in bed for me…

.

**Bella POV**

Gucci and bare feet. There is a God, and She loves me.

I never knew it was possible to take your shoes and socks off in a sexy way before. It always looked awkward or routine whenever I had seen a man do it. Of course, I had never had a man quite like Edward in my bedroom, so that was obviously where I had been going wrong.

He entered the room through the door way and paused, his eyes glittering in the dim light. Focusing on his girlfriend lying in bed, his eyes hardened and took on an erotic gleam. I swallowed. Holy hell, he looked like a lion with its prey in its sights. His whole body stiffened in anticipation of what he and Lauren where about to do, his shoulders flexed, his chest swelled, his long powerful legs took a firmer stance. And then he moved.

Walking would be a poor way to describe how he crossed the space between the door and the chair. He prowled. He stalked. He staked his claim and his intent with every movement of his body. I shoved the side of my hand in my mouth and bit down into the flesh to stop myself from making a sound because I'm not sure if I would have whimpered pathetically or shouted that he was mine. Because he was, or could be, kind of, I think. My god, how could a man that looked like that want me?

I watched helplessly as Edward lowered himself into the chair, never taking his eyes off Lauren once, the hungry, predatory look only increasing as he got closer to her. Slowly, he crossed one leg over his knee and reached for the shoelace on his polished black shoe, still never taking his eyes from his prize. The fabric stretched taut over his firm thighs, and the movements of his fingers were graceful and erotic as they took hold of the lace and pulled it undone. The unravelling of the lace reminded me of a corset being undone; the long beautiful fingers pulling the lace free from its restraints, the backs of his fingers brushing the polished leather of the shoe in a gentle caress.

Wrapping his hand around the rounded heel of the shoe, Edward eased it from his foot, gliding his hand up the length purposefully, caressing his foot with the thumb and fingers as he stroked right to the end, to his toes. He let go of the shoe, and it dropped into the darkness, forgotten as all eyes were fixed on his hand making a sensual return back up his foot. I didn't even hear the shoe hit the ground, so unimportant was it at that moment.

His fingers worked their way up beneath the hem of his trousers, easing the fabric up until the questing fingertips reached the top of his plain black sock. His fingers slipped inside, and he started to push the sock down, towards his foot, caressing his skin as he did so.

Suddenly, he stopped. His posture changed as he stiffened, and he drew in a gasp of breath. Looking into the camera for the first time, Edward said, "Sorry, Jason. I lost concentration for a moment there."

"That's okay, Edward. Just pull the sock back up, and we'll pick it up from there."

Edward flicked me the tiniest of glances where I was standing at the back of the room, and I knew, I just knew, that he had been thinking about yesterday, when I had helped him take his sock off.

I swallowed again as Edward slipped back into character; the apologetic tenseness of Edward slipping back into the determined, purposefulness of Liam. This time, he removed his sock without breaking character, though I had to look away from the sight of his naked foot. It was doing strange things to me. Edward placed his bare foot back on the ground and then repeated the process with his other foot, never once taking his heated gaze away from Lauren. By the time he stood up from the chair, bare foot and ready for more, I was almost hyperventilating. Stood at the back of the room as I was, no one was looking at me. They were all gazing at Edward or monitoring equipment, and I was suddenly, irrationally, completely jealous of 'Lauren.'

.

**Edward POV**

"Okay, Edward, we'll do that one more time, get some close-ups." One more time turned into three, and I was sick of taking shoes and socks off well before the end. Not to mention the fact that sliding the sock off like that just reminded me of Bella's touch. I hadn't been able to help my own reaction once I started thinking of her. My mind instantly jumped to remembering Bella kneeling before me as I sat on the cold stone wall. My body reacted instantly, too, and I was as hard as a rock for the remainder of the takes. Luckily, I only had to rise from the chair once for the first take, but it was a wide shot, and the angle of the camera would have picked up the obvious bulge in my trousers no problem. Lucky my character was supposed to be feeling that way.

No one mentioned anything.

Finally, I was done with the shoes and socks business, and now I had to walk across the floor to the bed, removing my tie and undoing my shirt as I went. Did guys really do this stuff?

I could see my marks on the floor peripherally as I trained my eyes on the chair with a cushion propped up on it that represented where Lauren's face would be when the scene was cut together. It was getting increasingly hard to remember that that cushion was what I was acting to. I'd put my all into the shoe business, holding an image of Bella in my mind, wrong as that probably was, but I was losing focus, knowing that the real woman was at the back of the room somewhere and I couldn't turn my head to look for her. We did a quick run through so that lights could be checked again. I didn't touch my tie for this, just walked the short distance directly towards the camera, gazing at the Lauren cushion as I walked. I hit my marks, the lights and filters were fiddled with, and we were ready for a take. I was waiting by the chair when Bella stood before me.

"Remember, cufflinks while you're standing here, then tie then buttons," she reminded me. We'd practiced this, and I was fairly confident that I could do the actions, even the tie thing, but what I wasn't confident about was being able to come on to 'another woman' when Bella was in the room. I was drawn only to her. I felt her. I just wanted to turn in her direction and throw some of those lustful looks at her rather than at a damn cushion.

"Stand behind the chair," I said to her suddenly. If I was going to do this seductive thing, I needed to have my focus on the right part of the room. She looked unsure. Did she really not know how I felt about her? How bloody distracted I was by her? How much I wanted her to be Lauren to my Liam?

"You can watch the tie thing from there," I added, conscious of the curious and knowing looks my words had drawn from the crew, "and let me know if I'm doing it right." She nodded, not seeing my desperation to have her in my line of sight.

"Yes, okay, if you want."

_Oh do I want._

Then her voice firmed. "But you had it okay when you practiced. Just don't mess it up, and you'll be fine."

I smiled at her. She was so damn hot when she went all stern like that. Someone in the crew laughed and hurriedly turned it into a cough when I glared in their direction. Great. Everyone except Bella could see how I was feeling.

She slipped away into the crowded room and managed to find a spot to stand in right behind the Lauren chair. I sighed in relief. Perfect. Liam could give it his all, and I wouldn't be distracted. Much.

The first take went okay. I fumbled with the second cuff and automatically looked down when I undid a tricky button on my shirt, but overall, it hadn't gone badly. I had concentrated like mad on the cushion, and it had worked up to a certain extent. It didn't draw me like the presence of the woman standing behind it did, but I did my utmost to act like it did.

"From the top," said Jason in his quiet voice, which meant he was concentrating and didn't like being disturbed. I walked back to first position, and Bella followed me, readjusting my tie after I had rebuttoned my shirt. She tsked when she saw I'd done them up wrong and muttered something about how I could never do them up right.

"Want help with the cuffs?" she asked.

"Huh?" She smelt so good. Her hair was pulled back but I knew how soft it was, and I longed to touch it.

"Your cuff links. Do you want me to do them up for you?"

Her lips were so soft I wanted to run my tongue along them and taste her again.

"Edward!" Jason called impatiently. "Are you ready?" I snapped out of my Bella induced haze. Jesus. What was wrong with me?

"Er, yeah. Sorry," I muttered, allowing Bella to sort the cuff links out as it would be quicker. "Ready when you are."

The second take went a bit better. I didn't fumble or break eye contact with the cushion, but it felt off. Not as intense as the shoe scene had been.

"From the top," instructed Jason to the room in general. He made his way over to me as I once again righted my buttons and tie, Bella hovering in the background, ready to check everything was in place.

"What do you need, Edward?" he asked. "What can we do to help you get this one?" I locked gazes with Bella over Jason's shoulder. I knew what I needed. I needed it to be me and Bella. "Whatever it takes, Edward." Jason continued, glancing over his shoulder. "Use whatever inspiration you want."

I nodded to let him know I'd heard him and prepared to do the ridiculous scene again. Honestly, no man would do this for real. He'd just take his clothes off and get into bed. This whole walk-towards-her-while-stripping thing was ridiculous.

After quickly adjusting my tie and repositioning a cuff link, Bella slipped back into the dim light behind the camera. I saw Jason murmur something to Mike, who in turn stepped over to Bella and said something to her. I couldn't see clearly in the dim light, but she seemed surprised. I felt a surge of something strong inside me, something that told me to get him away from her, but before I could react, Bella was moving away to her left and kneeling down on the floor. She was right next to the damn Lauren chair, her face now level with the Lauren cushion. How I didn't want to be acting to that damn cushion.

"Action," said Jason softly to my left. "Do what feels right, Edward." I locked gazes with Bella. Now that was what felt right. I could see her face lit in profile by one of the softly diffused lights to her left. Could see her cheek that I knew felt soft, her eyelashes that I knew were long, her lips that I knew tasted of magic. And I wanted more. Slipping into the character of Liam, I allowed myself to think of Bella as Lauren. Yes. That was better. That was the woman I wanted to seduce, the woman I wanted to be waiting in my bed for me. That was the woman I wanted to want me. I rested my hands on the waist of my trousers and smirked a little when her eyes followed the movement.

_Yes, want me, too._

I smoothed my fingers back and forth along the narrow waist band, never dropping them lower, but hinting at what was throbbing for her, barely contained under that dark conservative cloth.

My lips felt dry, and I licked them quickly, swallowing hard when I saw Bella lick hers in response. Remembering why I was standing there like a pillock, I started to undo one of the cuff links, taking the initiative and boldly rolling the shirt cuff back two turns, exposing my forearm to her gaze. She never looked away from the movement of my hands. Liam was an arrogant sod, and I enjoyed taking my time to undo the other cuff, rolling it back to expose my arm again, knowing that she was enjoying the sight of the strong muscles that I flexed for her.

I took the first step towards her, remembering that Liam would prowl like some kind of big cat, and reached up to confidently pull the tie loose from its knot, letting the silk fabric slip through my fingers, leaving the ends dangling as, with my other hand, I roughly pulled the collar button free. Doing it roughly that way was different from how we'd practiced, but damn, did it feel good to let some of my frustrated desire out with the jerky, powerful movements. I watched, satisfied, as her eyes widened, lips parted, anticipation written all over her face. I stalked slowly closer as I slipped the remaining shirt buttons free from their holes with one hand, the other flexed at my side.

As I took the last couple of steps, I broke from the plan again and reached with both hands to pull the shirt loose from my trousers. I undid the remaining two buttons, opening it completely, leaving it hanging from my shoulders, almost slipping from one as I stopped before Bella/Lauren and brought my hand to the fastening of my trousers. I slipped the button free and stood there before her, chest rising and falling with the harsh breaths I was taking, even, I think, a faint sheen of sweat across my skin as I saw her reaction to me. Her eyes travelled down my body before settling on my crotch. My dick twitched in response - I couldn't help it, he had a mind of his own - and I watched in a state of torment as she licked her lips.

_What she does to me._

_What she _could_ do to me._

_Focus. Working here._

Struggling to stay in character and to not reach for her and kiss the hell out of her as I wanted to… oh sodding fucking hell did I want to… I tried to think like Liam and twitched my lips into a crooked smirk and raised an eyebrow in question at her, a sort of 'well, are you ready for me?' kind of look. God, I could really relate to this Liam character suddenly. There was a pause. A long pause. I could feel two cameras, thirteen pairs of eyes, about six lights and Bella, all gazing at me, shining their heat and their presence at me, and all I could see or feel was Bella.

Following the script, I dropped to my knees by the side of the 'bed,' locked my gaze with Bella's/Lauren's and said, "I want you, Lauren. More than the sun and the stars and anything the hell else. It's you. Only you." The line had seemed corny when I'd first read it, but I understood the strength of feeling behind it more now. "I'm going to show you now," I continued in Liam's strong commanding voice. "I'm going to show you how much I love you." I let the want and the need and the passion burn from my eyes and show in every tensed muscle of my body, and I held it there for what seemed like forever. It was easy when I was looking into Bella's eyes.

"Oh fuck," I heard whispered in the dim room. "I think I just embarrassed myself," continued Alistair, and the spell was broken.

"Er, yes, cut," said Jason with a laugh as people in the room relaxed and laughed shakily, gradually dissipating the sexual tension that had held everyone enthralled.

"That was er… good, Edward," added Jason. "Great. We'll get some close-ups, I think, but that was… er… great."

I nodded faintly, still under the spell of Bella's gaze. Gradually, my breathing evened out, and I relaxed my tense muscles. It took a conscious effort, but I reminded myself that we were in a room full of people and it wasn't just Bella and me alone together. Yet.

Tearing my gaze away from her heated stare, though fuck knows how I managed it, I sighed, stood up and began to button up the shirt again. We still had work to do. This was going to be one hell of a long afternoon.

.

**Bella POV**

The white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up, open at the front, low waisted black formal trousers. This was very familiar. This was most definitely one of my favourite fantasies... I gulped... come to life.

Edward was standing right in front of me and had completely unbuttoned his shirt now. It hung open, his dark tie still hanging around the collar, adding to the decadent feel of the fantasy. His chest was exposed to the dim light along with his stomach, and the definition of his abs was clearly visible in the play of light and dark shadows as I gazed up at him from my position sitting on the floor. I was mesmerised by the indent of his hip bones, but couldn't help but stare at the soft trail of dark hair that led the way from his navel all the way down…

…to eye level. To the swell in his trousers that was right in front of me. I licked my lips.

_Holy shit._

I snapped out of the fantasy in horrified embarrassment right back into reality. It was the same.

_Holy shit, it's real._

_Well, of course it's real. Do you think you're living in some kind of parallel universe?_

_Yes!_

I snapped my eyes up to meet his intense stare before helplessly letting them travel down to look at his lips. I'd been so intently watching his body I'd forgotten about his lips.

_Mmmm, his lips._

Oh my god, he's licking them. How could I have forgotten about his lips? His eyes, his cheek bones and his jaw. God, how I loved his jaw. So masculine, so defined, so perfect.

Then he dropped to his knees and told me he loved me.

_Told Lauren, you mean._

_Shut up and let me enjoy this._

The silence between us went on and on until I couldn't bare it any longer. I had just sent the signal from my sluggish brain to my hand to tell it to move when a voice shattered the illusion. We weren't alone. And Edward hadn't been speaking to me. He'd been following the script. I clenched my fingers into my palm to counteract the grab-hold-of-his-shirt, pull-him-to-you and kiss-the-hell-out-of-him movement I had been about to make.

_We're working. We're here to do a job. _

In front of me, Edward sighed and stood up, and I hastily did the same, the suggestive position suddenly not so enthralling when I remembered there were over a dozen other people in the room.

I needed to stretch my legs for a moment, needed to clear my head, needed air, needed to get away…

"We'll finish this then talk later," Edward whispered as I brushed past him, the back of his index finger just brushing my hand as I drew parallel. Not a coincidence. A promise. I nodded. The end of the day couldn't come soon enough. And I couldn't leave yet. If I walked out of the room now, I'd never be able to make myself walk back in. I squared my shoulders, preparing myself for more work.

Then talking later.

Several hours, many takes and, in the crew's case, some short tempers later, we were finished. I was so tired I could hardly stand up straight. But before dispersing, we all gathered around the monitor to watch the footage that had just been shot. I was reluctant to join in - as if I needed any more stimulation today - but I was sort of jostled by the crowd until I found myself pressed up tight between Edward on one side and a blushing Seth on the other, all craning to see the last scene of the day.

It was brilliant. Shot from behind with strong lighting in front, Edward's long lean body was silhouetted through the fine fabric of his shirt. From his wide shoulders to his lean hips, his torso was completely visible, yet tantalisingly veiled, just as I had first envisioned. It was an incredibly sexy view and, I thought, was well worth the extra time it took to get right. Everyone in the group breathed a deep sigh of relief. We could see it was going to look fantastic in the film.

Pressed up next to me, partly to the side, partly behind, all I could feel was the warm, hard body of Edward. He peered over my shoulder, as interested as anyone in seeing the scene on the screen in front of us, but hidden from view, I could feel the hot, firm pressure of his hand against my lower back. His long fingers were splayed motionless against my spine, but his thumb was brushing in rhythmic strokes below my waist and over the beginning curve of my arse, the no-go area that would have had a Victorian lady swooning. It bloody nearly had me swooning, too. I gritted my teeth and tried to shift away from his disturbing touch before I did something stupid, like actually swoon, but the crowd wasn't moving.

"Let's talk," his lips murmured almost silently against my hair, his hot breath reaching my ear and making it tingle. Tingle? Honestly? Then the pressure against my body was gone, and I felt bereft and cold as Edward merely stood beside me. Slanting him a quick glance, he appeared completely unaffected by our brief but never-to-be-forgotten contact – by me anyway – seeming as attentive to the screen and the comments of Jason and Alec as everyone else. How did he do that?

_He is paid stupid amounts of money for his talent, you know._

_Bloody actors._

_What? You wanted him to let everyone see him touch you?_

I had to admit that I most definitely did not, but it would have been quite nice if he was also left a breathless idiot just from a brief touch. I chanced a quick glance at him again. We were standing incredibly close still, you could probably barely get a hand's breadth between us, and my glance caught the movement of his throat as he swallowed, the quickened throb of his pulse in his neck. Hmm, perhaps not so unaffected then. I was reminded that now work was over, the promised talking could begin. I felt the earlier tension that had never left me but had been firmly repressed start to coil its way back through me. Correspondingly, and rather annoyingly, my brain slowed right down.

"…starving, aren't you?"

"Huh?" was my completely unintelligent reply. Who could talk after Edward had stroked his thumb over their…?

_God, don't think about it._

"I said," repeated Angela over my shoulder with a laugh, "dinner's ready, and I'm starving. Are you coming?" Food wasn't actually top of my priority list right now. In fact, I could think of several things I wanted more than food. As the crowd began to disperse and I hastily put some circumspect distance between me and Edward, I tried to think about what it was I did want.

_Well, duh!_

Okay, but grabbing him and kissing him again couldn't really happen in front of an audience, could it? We needed some privacy, but without everyone suspecting anything.

_You are deluded if you think no one knows what's going on._

_Shut up._

It was easier for me to pretend otherwise.

"Actually, Bella, I need some help with this costume," said Edward as he appeared at my side again and smiled innocently down at Angela. "It's a bit… tricky," he added, now looking at me. I met his gaze with mine, and that was the end of me. His blankly innocent expression was completely ruined by the most wicked eyes I had ever seen. I may have groaned. Out loud. I'm not sure. Angela giggled, and Edward lost his impossibly innocent look and smiled his crooked, crinkly eyed smile, the one that made my knees weak and my insides weep.

"Um.."

"My costume?" he prompted, adding a quirk of his eyebrow into the mix. Oh that bastard, he knew what that did to me! I rummaged around in my lust hazed brain to try and pick up the conversation. Oh! His costume! It was the lamest excuse I'd ever heard. It was brilliant! I grabbed hold of it and ran with it.

"Yes, of course," I replied quickly, firmly ignoring Angela's you're-not-fooling-me-for-a-minute expression. "Let's go back to wardrobe, and I'll help you with that." I managed to tear my eyes away from the green-grey depths of his and looked at Angela in what I hoped was an apologetic way, but I was no actress; I was sure she could see exactly what I was thinking. I felt guilty heat flood my cheeks and quickly looked away down towards the floor. Mortified, I said to her in a quiet voice, "I'll see you at dinner in a bit," as I began backing out of the room towards the door. She waved me off with a knowing grin, and I hurried after Edward, who was already halfway there, hoping against hope that no one else had seen that. It was one thing to be thinking suggestive thoughts, but to be _seen_ thinking them?

Rushing down the echoing corridor and into my room, I pushed the door closed behind me and leaned against it, my stomach now beginning to twist itself into knots. What on earth was I doing?

_Enjoying yourself for a change. Now get on with it._

Knowing that there was no one else around to see us, I looked up. Looked past the dusty wooden floor, lit by patchy pools of lamp light, past the boxes of costume and equipment stacked against the walls and feasted my eyes on the only thing that mattered. Edward. He was standing by the table, long, beautiful legs covered with black as midnight wool, his shirt still undone, his eyes doing that I-want-to-consume-you thing that they had been doing on set all afternoon.

_Oh my god, he's here. With me._

I swallowed painfully. My mouth seemed to have gone dry. I was suddenly very conscious of the fact that I didn't actually have much experience at this sort of thing. Hell, I'd never actually been wanted so much in my life! It just didn't seem real, didn't seem as though it should be allowed. A noisy clatter of talking and heavy footsteps on the other side of the door made me jump away from it and instinctively panic that we would be found, and people would laugh and point and gossip, and Edward would laugh, too, and say that it had all been a game and that he didn't really want anything to do with me, and I would be heartbroken and humiliated.

I said I wasn't much of an actress. He saw it all on my face, saw every thought and emotion. I watched him, my eyes as large as saucers, it felt. Now there's an attractive thought, but he didn't laugh or joke or, unbelievably, even leave.

Instead, he smiled at me. A soul wrenching heart melting smile of heat and want and compassion and understanding. Holding out his hand towards me, he said in a husky whisper, "Come and help me with my costume, Bella?" And as I stepped irresistibly forward and reached towards him, he took my hand lightly in his and began to lead me around the rails into the changing area, his fingers caressing my palm, stoking the heat that instantly flowed again between us. I sighed. At his touch, my worries about what we were doing just floated away. It felt so right. So unbelievably right. My cares about being seen, being gossiped about, just didn't seem to matter when we were close like this, touching.

"It's okay," he said, still in that slightly hoarse, controlled whisper. "If anyone comes in, they won't see us behind here." My heart jumped guiltily, and I bit my lip as I thought about it, but decided that this was probably not the time to tell him that that was not actually true. If you stood in just the right place by the table, you could see…

And then he was drawing me closer to him, wrapping his arms around my waist as I wound mine around him. Funny, it just happened naturally, no awkward fumbling, just sliding hands and warmth and … the perfect fit. We paused for a moment, arms gently wrapped around each other, bodies a heartbeat away from each other, watching each other. I don't know what he saw in me, but I was so mixed up inside I could hardly think. Then I was thinking too much.

_This felt so good. _He_ felt so good. But we shouldn't be doing this. _He_ shouldn't be doing this. With me. What if he changes his mind? Am I too tall? Not skinny enough? Not a good enough kisser? Is my deodorant still working? Oh god, what did I have for lunch? Will I still taste like tomato soup?_

_WILL you shut the heck up?_

And then it all faded away. The tension just disappeared, the stupid, stupid ramblings in my head stopped and it was just us. Heat and touch and want.

_See? This is more like it._

I almost rolled my eyes at my inner thoughts, but before I could form any kind of coherent response or even want to, the heat that sparked between us couldn't be denied any longer. We each tightened our holds on the other and pulled our bodies hard against one another.

_Now _that's_ what I'm talking about._

_._

**Edward POV**

I was aching for her, no other word for it. My whole body was charged from being in the same room as her, and the burning heat from our touch was just driving me plain crazy. She felt so right in my arms. There was nothing that I would choose to change about her, but she was just so damn skittish. One minute she was looking at me like she wanted to jump me there and then, and the next she looked terrified. I didn't want to rush her and do something that she wasn't ready for, but the mixed signals she sent were so hard to read. Leading her into the privacy of the changing area seemed to calm her, wrapping my arms loosely around her seemed to be welcomed, but she still didn't look wholly convinced that we were doing the right thing.

_God damn it._ If I had to walk away from her now, I would, but it would be the hardest thing I had ever done.

And then I felt her relax in my arms. The anxiety left her eyes, and her whole body seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. I gazed down into the swirling depths of her eyes and saw determination, desire and was that a hint of amusement?

_What the hell? How is it that I can never tell what she is going to do next? _

I pushed the idea that she was laughing _at_ me away and settled on the more comforting thought that she was laughing _with_ me. But all thoughts of laughter fled as I soaked in the heat and the touch and the need. I wanted to be closer to this woman more than I wanted anything else in the world right now. The heat, the magic, the whatever the hell it was that had been building between us for hours reached flash point. For a second, I saw it in her, too… _ha, read you loud and clear this time_… and then we each reacted. I tightened my arms around her waist and pulled her to me with a force I just couldn't stop myself from using. I just needed to feel her so much.

Everywhere we touched was electric, and the places we were touching were pretty amazing. Waist to hip, we were pressed together. My arms gripped her slim waist tightly as I felt her arms clasp around mine and pull us tighter still. I gripped her legs between mine as she somehow settled between them, mentally gritting my teeth and hanging on to my control for dear life. The tormenting pressure behind my zip as my excited body was pressed hard against the flat plains of her stomach scared the shit out of me. Would it be too much? Would she recoil at the evidence of just how desperately and how physically I wanted her?

_Keep still. D__on't grind against her._

_Don't,_

_Don't,_

_Don't._

But she made no sound or movement that indicated that she could even feel the rock hard problem threatening to push his way free out of the top of my trousers. No moan, no wriggle, nothing. I was at once relieved and at the same time pissed; he was there because of her after all. But I pushed the decidedly un-gentlemanly thoughts away, hung on to my resolve not to do anything to send her running and enjoyed, thoroughly, the feel of her warm, pliant body in my arms.

It was bliss. It was heaven. And yet, despite my best intentions, I wanted more. Wanted to feel more of her.

_Greedy bastard._

_Too damn right._

She was here with me at last. The long afternoon of torment was over, and finally, I had her in my arms. I was going to savour every last bit of this, and damn if I wasn't going to make sure she enjoyed it, too. I moved a hand slowly up the long flowing length of her back, cursing the few thin layers of fabric between my hand and her skin for existing, but savouring the feel of her softness beneath the layers of clothes all the same. My hand reached her shoulders, and I pressed between them, coaxing the full length of her body hard against mine so that… _oh thank you, God_… her soft breasts crushed against my chest. Warmth, softness, comfort, need. It all whirled around me, giving me so much to process, to try and control yet enjoy, to memorise and sink into. The last time we had been this close, we had been wearing so many layers of clothes and coats it had been hard to feel her, but, oh fuck, was I feeling her now.

_She feels so good. God, I wish I knew if she was feeling it, too._

As if in response to my fervent wishes, she moaned and moved an arm up to press between my shoulders, too, pulling herself tight against me. I felt a flash of primal triumph that I seemed to be doing this right.

_Control, remember. Control._

We hadn't taken our eyes off each other, and I saw a raw hunger burn in the depths of hers that matched mine, and it made my heart stutter and the part of my body that I was gentlemanly trying to ignore throb demandingly. I had to kiss her, had to feel and taste that delectable moist warmth again.

Manfully repressing the urge to take, take, take, I bent down and instead pressed my lips softly to hers just as she reached up and pressed her lips to mine. God, this woman was so perfect for me. Unable to stop myself, I greedily swept the line of her lips with my tongue, and my knees nearly buckled when she opened her mouth and boldly met my tongue with hers.

_Control. Cont… oh fuck it._

The first time we had kissed, it had been amazing, but this time was even better. The sensations, the power, made my thoughts stutter to a halt and my instincts surge forward. I was unable to think about anything other than the hot press of Bella's lips against mine, the erotic warmth of her mouth and the sensual slide of tongue on tongue. Her kiss bewitched me completely.

Feeling overwhelmed with need now that I had let loose the grip I had been just about holding on myself, I moaned into her and pulled her closer still, deepening the kiss. Her silken hair all tied up in a bunch at the back of her head became wound through my fingers as I kneaded and caressed every inch of her shoulders and back that I could reach, the textures I could feel with my fingertips and palms adding to the delicious feeling of her against me.

I needed her closer. My other hand moved down below her waist, following the contours of her spine until it was resting right at the top of the delicious swell of her backside, and I pulled her in to me tighter still, adjusting my stance so that she settled even further into my hips. I growled deep in my chest at the feel of her rubbing against my skin where the stupid damn shirt was still open, the buttons on her firmly closed shirt taunting me.

_I'm half undressed__, and it's still too many clothes._

I was pulled back to the here and now by the sound of her moaning into my mouth and the feel of her moving against me. Though she never took her mouth from mine or stopped the exploration of my back that her thorough hands were making, she rocked her lower body fractionally against mine, against my poor dick, and I could have wept at the mix of both relief and agony. I was pretty sure he was weeping anyway. I moved against her carefully in return, relishing the excruciating fiery friction that we were generating between us.

This new sensory onslaught was too much to endure. Unable to hold back, I groaned and relinquished the contact with her delight of a mouth, throwing my head back and gasping for air. I wished I had the words for how I felt, how she made me feel, but I couldn't articulate anything. I could only feel.

Forgetting where we were - who could think of things like that? - I tugged her against me, leaning my body back to gather as much touch, friction, heat between my hips as possible. The shift of her weight against me caused me to lose my balance and, unable to move my feet that were somehow tangled with hers, I fell back against the solid wood-panelled wall behind me, my shoulders and the back of my head crashing against it, propping us up in a semi-reclined stand. Her face was level with mine again, her chin kind of propped up on my chest, our lips coming to a rest pressed together.

_Well, this is different. _

_They couldn't have written a scene like that if they'd tried._

_God__, she feels good lying on me like this._

_Shut up with the selfish shit, you git._

Grasping at her hips in case she was about to fall… _yeah, right…_ I jerked my head from hers, as far as I could anyway, what with being trapped between the wall and her lips. Bloody hell, had I bitten her? Crushed her? Hurt her? Desperate to see her reaction, I twisted my head to the side and frantically searched her face with my eyes and her body with my hands because no way was I letting go of her now.

Her eyes were wide, shocked by the sudden near accident, but full of... was that laughter? Oh, she thought this was funny, did she? Bloody hell, I thought I'd hurt her. Opening my mouth to tell her exactly how inappropriate humour was, I was stopped dead in my tracks by the gleam in her eye and the way she was now pressing down onto me. She must have been standing on tiptoe as she leaned against me and tried to correct her balance, causing her hips to do a sinful little shimmy that rubbed against me in the most wonderfully agonising way. I closed my eyes, let my head thump back against the wall again and hissed through my teeth at the feeling. It was too much, almost too much. Oh hell, do it again.

I licked my lips that felt suddenly parched. Her delicious taste was all over them, and I couldn't resist sucking my bottom lip into my mouth to taste her again. It was her turn to draw in a sharp intake of breath, and I opened my eyes to look down into her own darkened ones, dark with lust and gleaming with want. Her face was flushed, and because of our position, her breasts were still pressed hard against my chest, heaving hard. Of course it could have been because I had my arms wrapped tight around her or because she had hers wrapped tight around me. My own chest was heaving in time with hers, and somehow the synchronicity made me want her all the more.

She looked up at me with hungry eyes, her lips swollen and red from our interrupted kiss. I had never seen a more beautiful sight. I took a breath, preparing to tell her just that, when, on the other side of the rail, the sound of the door opening and footsteps entering the room made me freeze.

"Bella?" asked Jessica's voice, sounding very close, though she must have still been by the door. My eyes locked to Bella's wide shocked ones as her body froze in my arms. It dawned on me, just a bit belatedly I had to admit, that Bella's hands were trapped between the wall and my shoulders. She couldn't move away because my weight was holding her in place. And there was no way that I could stand up straight because Bella's weight was pressing me into the wall at an impossible angle. Untangling ourselves quietly and discreetly was just not an option. I watched in fascination as the same realisation dawned on Bella's face, and I held my breath waiting to see what she would do.

Jessica's footsteps got louder as she walked further into the echoing room. Silently, Bella started tugging unsuccessfully at her arms and, at the same time, feeling around with her toes, trying to get a firm grip on the floor. The whole effort just pressed her writhing body more firmly into mine, making my eyes water with the effort not to groan in sexual frustration or laugh out loud at the whole sodding situation. I bit my lip, hard, as she brought her leg up painfully between my legs then rolled enticingly against my straining dick with her hip. Surely this was too much to expect any man to endure? I closed my eyes, pressed my head back against the wall behind me and suffered in silence.

_Oh fuck, my poor balls!_

_How the hell did I __get myself into this?_

_Emmett will die laughing if he ever finds out about this._

_Oh__ god, more._

Bella seemed to realise that her efforts were causing me something of a problem because she stopped squirming abruptly and even held her breath. I opened one eye cautiously and peered down at her. Somehow she managed to look both contrite and frustrated at the same time. A loose tendril of her hair which had escaped its elastic prison, probably due to my running my fingers madly through it, floated down and brushed her cheek. She twisted her lips to the side and huffed at it.

I had never seen anything so adorable in my life.

_Adorable? Really?_

_Shut up._

Listening to Jessica's footsteps as they got to what I guessed was about the middle of the room, I wanted to laugh out loud at the ridiculous position we had got ourselves into. Then I wanted to laugh at the thought that this was a 'position.' I rolled my eyes at my adolescent humour, and incredibly I saw Bella's lips twitch in response, and she compressed them together to hold back a laugh. The mirth in Bella's eyes was nearly enough for me to give us away. This was such a stupid thing to be happening. Bella's whole body shook as she valiantly held back her laughter, and she pressed her face into my shoulder to help keep her silence. I hugged her tight to me and shook my head at the fates.

Slowly, as if drawn against her will, Bella turned her head and looked at the clothing hanging on the rail behind her. I followed her movement, puzzled as to why she would want to gaze at the suits and coats now. I let my eyes search the hanging clothes, but was drawn to movement. Movement from between the clothes. I leaned to the right a bit more and had a perfect narrow view of Jessica placing some papers down on the table and then turning away again.

I could feel the heat of Bella's blush through the thin fabric of my shirt. What was she so embarrassed about? She just wanted to see who was in the room, right? Though how she had known that she would be able to see was beyond me. Unless…

Catching Bella's incredibly guilty looking eyes, I gave her a knowing frown, which was kind of ruined by the fact that I couldn't stop grinning, too. The little sneak. She knew she would be able to see out because she knew that you could see in. When Jessica left, we were definitely going to discuss this! I couldn't wait to see her try and talk her way out of this one.

Then maybe we could pick up where we had left off.

.

* * *

**A/N: * Dressing Ring information.**

**A Dressing Ring is a piercing through the end of the penis. It is reputed that Beau Brummel (1778 – 1840) used the ring to reduce the appearance of his "manly endowments." In the Regency period, he started the fashion for ultra-tight trousers, and the penis needed to be held against the thigh to one side or the other so as not to create an unsightly bulge. To accomplish this, some men (including Beau) had their penis pierced to allow it to be held by a hook on the inside of the trousers. This piercing was called a Dressing Ring at the time because tailors would ask if a gentleman dressed to the left or the right and tailor the trousers accordingly. Tailors to this day will ask if you dress to the left or right, (but to allow a little more room for the well-endowed, not because they think you have a piercing!)**

**The piercing later became known as a Prince Albert because, prior to his marriage to Queen Victoria, Prince Albert had the piercing done so as not to embarrass the Queen with his fashionably tight trousers. This particular piercing is still known as a Prince Albert today. (This all may actually be anecdotal, but it does at least make for interesting research!)**

**Thanks for reading and just to let you know, reviews make me write the next chapter faster!**


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